Morning Primroses and Evening Flashbacks
by gabisamore
Summary: Lysmachia Mellark is 14 ,finally she has reached upper school. What happens when a strange boy is watching her at school, the history lessons include 'The History of the Hunger Games', and a certain two victors try desperately to keep their children safe from the memories of the cruel world that they have tried so hard to destroy? Enjoy!
1. Autumn Memories

_This is my story, and not Ella's, I hope y'all like it. Please review it and tell me if I should add more. I know it's short but I wanted to leave in on somewhat of an edge to match Suzanne Collins style of writing._

_**Update: 8/2012 **__(It's been six months since I started this story and I think I've really grown as an author and that my story grew with me. Despite its shaky start, this story has an original perspective that is worth reading. Please give this story a shot!)_

**Disclaimer - If I owned the Hunger Games I would be sending this to my publisher not putting it here. Just saying :p**

I slowly open my eyes, and I can feel a slight chill in the air. I left my window open last night. Mom is not going to be happy about that. I look out at the wide fields where I love to dance in the summer time. Autumn is coming and the fields will soon be covered in leaves. I smile as I remember what the coming of autumn means: today is mommy and daddy's wedding anniversary. Lich and I have a special surprise for them. I quietly tiptoe over to his bed and roughly shake him awake. His gray eyes look into mine, confused for a second, but then, understanding he starts up. "Did you…?" he starts to ask. I cut him off:"Shhh! Outside." We sneak outside, and then run into the woods. When we get to the shack, I pause for a minute. My mother says she used to go here often but she never wants to go again. Once I caught her grabbing the hunting bag and instead of going to her usual hunting place she silently made her way to the shack. I remember struggling to be quiet, my mother tried to teach me to hunt but I haven't inherited her soft hunter-like tread. Instead I scare away of all the game like my father. When mom got to the shack she rested on a fallen log and sat for a while. Just when I was about to turn back she began to sing a song I had never heard before.

"Are you, are you  
>Coming to the tree<br>Where they strung up a man they say murdered three.  
>Strange things did happen here<br>No stranger would it be  
>If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.<p>

Are you, are you  
>Coming to the tree<br>Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.  
>Strange things did happen here<br>No stranger would it be  
>If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.<p>

Are you, are you  
>Coming to the tree<br>Where I told you to run so we'd both be free.  
>Strange things did happen here<br>No stranger would it be  
>If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.<p>

Are you, are you  
>Coming to the tree<br>Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me.  
>Strange things did happen here<br>No stranger would it be  
>If we met up at midnight in the -." She shudders and her shoulders begin to shake, and then without thinking I run to her side, hugging her, telling her it's OK, she's not alone.<br>She looks up at me and manages a shaky smile "Your right. Ready, I need to play the game. My name is Katniss Everdeen Mellark, I have the most wonderful husband in the world, the sweetest little son, and the sneakiest little daughter, who shouldn't have been following me."  
>Her sad and serious tone changes to a joking one at the last note. She tickles me, then pulls me close and smiles.<br>"I'm sorry I followed you but I wanted to make sure you wouldn't get lost. You went the wrong way." I say flashing her a winning smile.  
>My mom looks thoughtfully at me, "I didn't go the wrong way I just didn't go to the normal woods, I felt like going somewhere different today. I've been here a lot as a child I won't get lost, I promise."<br>"Did daddy go here too, when he was little?" I ask.  
>"No, he didn't, c'mon we better get back or Daddy will be worried" She pulls her game bag over her shoulder and we race for home. I win of course, Mom always let me win.<p>

That night she woke up screaming. It was pitch black and at first I thought it was a wild animal but then I heard my father's soothing voice gently calming my mother and then violent sobbing replaced her screams. Her screams still ring in my head seven years later. She must have had a terrible nightmare to utter sounds like that. She wouldn't tell me or Lich what it was about, and soon we learned not to ask.  
>In the cool morning air, I remember that night and I wonder again, what caused that scream. I guess I'll never know.<p> 


	2. Flowers and Fear

_So, I hope you like the second chapter, it's a little bit longer than the last one, I'm trying to make them longer but if I upload every other day then you'll have to forgive their shortness….._

Lich asks "Did you get the book?"  
>"Yep, it's in my game bag. Did you get the pots?"<br>"Of course I got the pots, how are we supposed to take the plants home if we don't have pots?"  
>"I was just making sure Lich, you don't have to be so defensive."<br>"Sorry, I just a little irritable from being shaken rudely awake."  
>"You sleep like a log!"<br>"Well I can't help that!"  
>"Well, then I can't help shaking you to wake you."<br>"You win." Lich concedes with a grin. 

We sit down on that log and I open the book. This book is very special. We aren't allowed to touch it, so taking it out of the house it will definitely get us into trouble if we get caught. We have to hurry and get back before they wake up. My grandfather started it and my Mom helped him. Later she and Daddy finished it. It was originally supposed to be a book of edible and herbal plants but it has lots of other things in it. Daddy drew pictures of all the special people in their lives when they were kids. My favorite is the page that says _Evening Primrose_. It is such a beautiful flower and it reminds me of the flower I am named for, _Lysimachia_. My mother named me after my aunt Primrose because the flowers looked similar. I flip to that page and it reminds me why we are here.

"Are you sure there are any primrose left?" I ask my brother.  
>"I'm sure there have to be some, what do they look like exactly?"<br>"Just like my flower, remember?"  
>Lich and I examine Daddy's beautiful drawing.<br>"You should really try to draw sometime, I think you would really be good at it."  
>"Lys, you know I'll never be like daddy." Lich argues.<br>"I won't either but I love it." I smile as the memories flash back.  
>Daddy and I always stay at home when my mother goes hunting and we draw together. He is wonderful at it, but I'm really not. I love it though and I think Lich would too, if he would only try. When he drew his first picture at three and it didn't look like daddy's, he gave up drawing forever. Lich was very stubborn, and now, at thirteen, he still is.<br>"Lys, remember, flower-gathering...? We have to get back before mom grounds us for life..."  
>"Sorry, I was just thinking about Dad, do you think he was always good at drawing?"<br>"Probably, I don't know, c'mon Lys, we don't want to get in trouble!"  
>"Gee, you don't have to yell Lich" <p>

We scour the ground around the shack and we find the flowers we need. We hurriedly uproot them and put them in the pots, they just have to last until we get home. Then we'll plant them in Mom's garden. She used to have a bunch of primroses growing there but they all got killed in a frost last winter and she didn't have any replacement seeds. But Lich and I knew where they grew behind the shack. She never went there after that day so she didn't discover them, but I went a few years ago and I found them. When her garden died I knew just what I would do. Once we finish, we race home. I hear stirring in the house. "Lich go inside and see if you can stall them" I quickly suggest. He races inside, like I knew he would. He usually listens to me, except when he's being stubborn. Mom is trying to teach him to be flexible but I know it'll never work. Lich will always be obstinate like her.

I hurriedly put the plants in the already-dug holes and pat the dirt around them. They are so pretty, Mom will love them. I hear voices coming nearer and I frantically pick up my tools and throw them in the shed. I race around the house to see Mom and Dad, watching the sunrise, Pink and purple with a light orange that is growing brighter by the second. I smile, he has his arm around her and I know that she is perfectly happy. I tiptoe across the porch and slowly open the screen door, not wanting to ruin their perfect moment. But just then Lich jumps out, making me slam the door. "Where are they, I can't find them anywhere?" He worriedly asks. I point at our bemused parents standing in the field. "Oh, I'm sorry, I was just looking for you and then you weren't there, and I was worried." Lich stammers out. "Mom, Dad, I want you to see this!" I call as I run around the house.

"What is it Lys? Another dance?" My mom asks. I love dancing wildly, but I love making up dance steps too. I showed one to my parents last year, but this year their present is so much better. When my mother sees the flowers, her eyes widen and she looks up to my father. He is look strange too. Where are the smiles, the congratulatory hugs, the loving glances? My parents meet each others' eyes, and in those eyes I see fear, extreme fear. I realize there is something seriously wrong, but I can't figure it out and before I have a chance to say anything my father runs to the house.


	3. School and it's complications

_Thanks to Omalara, LC3327, and hplover2198 who favorited my story. You have no idea how excited I am about it! For my first fanfiction, I'm doing pretty well :)_

_I wanted to make the chapters a little longer, but it is during the school week, so I'm not sure how that will go. At least this one is a little longer._

My mother runs after him, but I don't follow. What happened? I look at Lich, and in his eyes, I see the same mix of fear and confusion that must be in mine too. We go inside and go through the motions of making breakfast. Dad stays in the barn all day and Mom acts like nothing is happening. "Dad just needs to paint for a while, that's all." She explains, but the hurt in her eyes is obvious. Lich and gather our school supplies and pack our backpacks for the following day. The first day of school. I sigh, as it finally hits. Summer is over. But, I brighten with the prospect of seeing my friends again. Camelia Galer and Echiae Brenatt. They are both merchants' kids. We live far beyond the fence, so I don't really get to see them anywhere but school. I go to bed early. We have a long day ahead of us. Wehave to wake up early to walk all the way. Something tells me that Dad won't be driving us tho school in the carriage tomorrow. However, I am wrong.

Dad shakes me awake and I look up confused, he can't be better yet. But he seems to be, he smiles and jokingly asks: "So, you gonna talk to Acerus today?"

I slap him playfully with a pillow, "Don't be ridiculous Dad, why would I do that?"  
>"Maybe because you spend your whole history period trying to catch his eye instead of learning." He looks at me, I try not to blush but I can feel my cheeks burning.<p>

"I wouldn't do that, Dad, I always pay attention!" I retort.

"Then why do your grades say otherwise?" He grins playfully at me.

"Ugh, Dad! Why don't you go wake Lich."

"You should try to talk to him, believe me, I learned it the hard way. Try to be friends before he slips out of your grasp."

"OK, I get it, just don't tell Mom, promise?"

"I promise lovebug."

"I love you Daddy."

"I thought you grew out of calling me Daddy...?"

"I know, _(pause)_ I just missed you last night."

"I'm sorry, honey, but I'm back now. I promise I'll stay this time. I love you."

And with that he kisses my forehead and is gone. At least he admitted it. Mom never does, she always denies all her nightmares, trying to protect us. But I don't really understand what from. So what, she has bad dreams sometimes. I do too, without the screams.

We are in the carriage within a half-hour As we drive away, I see mom frantically pulling up the roses. Roses! I forgot, she doesn't like roses. I just planted a couple but that was enough to set her off. I didn't hear her screaming last night, but she may have been out in the woods, trying to forget them. She does that sometimes, just goes off into the woods to try to escape the pain we all see in her eyes. Lich always finds her. After a day or so of her absence, he always goes out to the woods. He never tells me what he does but I think I know. Sometimes I can hear him singing in the basement, where he thinks no one can hear. I imagine them singing together, driving away the fear in her eyes. As we drive to school, I try to forget the strangeness between my parents. What an anniversary they had this year!

When we get to school, I jump out of the carriage, and race towards them. "Bye Dad!" I call as I run across the school yard. We are slammed into a hug and we fall to the ground.  
>"Don't look now but someone is watching us..." Camelia giggles at me.<br>"Probably because we look like idiots rolling on the ground." I respond, brushing the dirt of my clothes.

When I look up, our eyes meet. I quickly look down, embarrassed and confused. He must be new, I haven't seen him before. He has dark tousled hair, deep grey eyes, and broad shoulders that I'm sure all the girls will be whispering about soon. Camelia flashes me a knowing smile and I lightly slap her.  
>"I don't care, I still like Acerus."<br>"OK, but if a cuter guy smiles at you I think you should take him, Lys."  
>"He didn't smile he just -" The school bell loudly rings, drowning out my last words. Echiae sprints to the door.<br>"Where were you? You're five minutes late." I inform her. Echiae is always early on the first day of school, so I wonder what caused her to be late.  
>"I'm sorry, but I have a really good reason, my mom had her baby last night." She explains. "She is the cutest thing! We haven't decided on a name yet."<p>

Camelia and I sigh in unison. We run to our classroom as the warning bell rings. All through the day we exchange smiles, and we throw out all sorts of crazy name suggestions during lunch. The boy is in my history class, but I refuse to look at him again. In the yard I catch him looking at me for a minute and he shifts his gaze slightly to my right. I follow his eyes and see a man, who must be his father. They have the same hair, eyes, and shoulders. I have to admit the boy is handsome, but I am determined not to be distracted from my mission. I run by Acerus and causally call "Bye!" as he walks to the road. He turns and his blue eyes scan the yard, looking for the speaker. I freeze when his eyes meet mine. "See you tomorrow!" he calls back. I grab Lich and run to the carriage that had just pulled up.  
>"So, how did your day go?" Dad asks.<br>"Fine." I say, although inside I want to scream.  
>"No homework!" shouts Lich, which makes Dad laugh.<br>"Well, don't get used to it, they'll probably slap down hours of it tomorrow."  
>"Probably", I agree. I smile to myself, and pretend to be absorbed in picking at the splintered wood. As I look back, I see the boy's father watching us with a strange look on his face. I quickly turn around and get ready to face Mom and the whirlwind of emotions that we will soon be facing.<p>

_I love this chapter, a little breather in all the drama… One question, should I bring Gale back? I'm not sure, I think I will, but I think he may complicate things. This was originally supposed to be a story about how the kids found out about the Capitol and what they did to Katniss and Peeta, but now I'm not sure. Is Gale important for that? Alright, I'll shut up now…_


	4. Returning Home

_If your reading this, it means you stuck through all three chapters and I'm flattered. Thank you for making it this far! _

_So, I decided to do a chapter from Peeta's point of view, because later I want to do one from Gale's and I wanted to test it out. Yes, he is coming back, and if all goes well, he should be back by next chapter. I'm spacing it to make it easier to read. Sorry, it's a short one again…_

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><p>Peeta's POV<p>

As we drive home, I watch them sitting there, laughing. I love them so much. How could they ever understand the horrors that haunt our nights? Katniss and I agreed that they never really would. I see it though, the confusion in Lys's eyes as she sees the fear in Katniss's. She wants to know the reason for the fear. I remember the pleading in her eyes when she told me she missed me. Of course I promised her, I'd stay. But now I realize that may be impossible.

I thought they were gone, the flashbacks that leave me gasping on the floor from the intensity, straining my muscles to try to control my thoughts. But somehow, they always win, and afterwards I never know what really happened. Yesterday was the worst I've had since I tried to kill her. Kill her. The words sit in the pit of my stomach and rest there. I have not forgotten the guilt of what I tried to do then.

No matter how much we pretend, we will never have a carefree life. We will never be free of the past, no matter how hard we push ourselves deep into the current moment. But then, I remember, she chose this life. She said real, and she reminds me every day with her beautiful persistence that she won't give up. She wakes up every morning, no matter how hard the night has been, knowing I'll be there. Lich and Lys need to understand this. I resolve to talk to Katniss about it the first chance I get. But I never get that chance.

As soon as I get inside the house, I see her lying on the couch. She does not acknowledge my presence. Lich and Lys go outside to clean up the flowerbed, so I sit beside her.

I put my arm around her and smile. "Hey Katniss, how was your day?" I receive no response.

I cup her chin in my hand and turn her face towards mine. Her face is blank of all emotions. I brush my hand across her face and push the tangled hair behind her ear. She hasn't brushed her hair today. She is wearing one of my t-shirts and a faded old pair of sweats. Her pajamas. She still hasn't changed.

Now that I think about it, she hasn't even moved. She was in this very position when I left. Panic rising in my chest, I kiss her. She makes no motion. She does not pull, away, but she does not return my kiss. When I pull away, she shifts slightly on the couch. At least she is making some movement.

I think: "What to do? I can't tell the kids. Who will know what to do with her?" Then it hits me, I call District 2 immediately.

"Hello, Is Dr. Everdeen available?"

"May I ask who's calling?" asks a young women in a clipped voice.

"Mr. Mellark, regarding her daughter." I answer

"Mr. Mellark! How is she? How are the kids? Is she expecting another?" Her voices changes immediately from official to conversational.

"Fine, thank you. No, we're happy with the ones we have so far. May I please speak to Dr. Everdeen?

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I'll get her right away."

"Peeta?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"How are things going?"

"Not good. Katniss is, ...well, I'm not sure what's wrong."

"Is she expecting again?"

"Oh no, at least I don't think so, she just won't speak to me."

"Well, I'm sure after a day of the cold shoulder she'll turn around. She can never be too stubborn with you around."

"No, I mean she won't talk to me, acknowledge me, or even look at me. She's gone..."

"You don't mean … _gone_, gone?"

"Yes, I don't know what to do, or what to tell the kids.

"I'll be there tomorrow afternoon. Keep her out of their sight. Lich is a lot like her, he may resent her withdrawal if he finds out.  
>In the meantime, try to be with her at all times, send the kids off to school as usual, then keep talking to her. Show her that you're there. She's in there somewhere and I know that she needs you there, ... that's what I needed."<p>

"Of course, thank you. Can you talk to her for a minute?"

"No, it might make it worse, I need to be there in person."

"OK, I'll see you."  
>"..."<p>

I hang up the phone and look at Katniss. How could I be so caught up in my flashbacks when I knew she would be struggling too? I carry her up to our room and tuck her in.  
>I remember a similar time, when I carried her up to her room, years ago. She had said: "Stay with me!" Of course, I answered: "Always."<p>

But when I look at her, I see that she has already fallen asleep. That must be a good sign, if she can sleep.

I stay there though, waiting for the nightmares to hit, knowing that they will. I wonder, can she hear me? I whisper, "I'm here, I'll always be here. Always."

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><p><em>How'd you like it? Have you guessed what's happening yet? I have a general plan to this story, but it's kind of writing itself. If I forgot anything or you want to see a particular character's POV, please tell me.<em>


	5. What Victors?

_Thank you so much all of the people that favorited and story alerted my story. I am so glad you like it! And so, (drum roll) introducing chapter 5!_

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><p><strong>Lysmachia's POV<strong>

When we get home, Dad sends Lich and I outside to clean up the flowerbed. We do, removing all traces of the roses and leave only the primroses. Dad makes a quick dinner but other than that, he stays in his bedroom with mom. We don't complain, we just run to the woods to escape the tension.

"What's do you think is wrong, Lich? Why are they acting so strange?"

"I don't know, I just want Mom back. How could she sleep all day? She always helps us with our homework after school."

"We don't have homework, Lich." I remind him.

"But just in case we did, she should be ready to help us." He retorts.

"I know Lich. We have to be normal. We'll get up early tomorrow, walk to school, and do our homework without Mom. I can help you instead."  
>I try to calm him; after all, I am the older one. I am the one who should be there for him even when mom isn't.<p>

Next morning, we wake up early. Dad is still sleeping, so we sneak down stairs, grab our pre-packed lunches from the night before, and slip outside into the dawn. We walk to the torn-down fence, through the re-built housing complex once called the Seam, and then across the meadow to the school. I stick with Lich today, instead of running off with my friends. I walk him to his classes, helping keep him steady. After lunch, his face looks like a stone mask, and I know he is about to cry.

"C'mon, you're smart enough to be in my class and I'm sure my teacher won't mind."

"OK, Lys" He looks relieved, and I give him a reassuring smile.

That boy is in my class again, but Acerus is not. I am a bit disappointed, but relieved that I can focus on Lich's needs.  
>My history teacher is a short man with white hair. His voice is quiet and feeble, but since he has lived through quite a lot of the history he teaches, the board let's him stay. He begins to speak, not even noticing that he has one extra student: "Welcome to history class, students! Please pay attention to the following lesson."<br>To me this means start sneaking glances at Acerus, since the lessons are always boring. But Acerus isn't here today, so I write a smiley on my paper and slant it towards Lich. He smiles back. The teacher drones on: "We are privileged to know this knowledge, as if will affect many of you for the rest of your lives."  
>Then his voice takes on a strange sort of intensity, and his eyes focus on me "I mean it! It is your job to make sure these events NEVER happen again. They were horrific, barbarous, and miserable for all district participants. Your parents will remember them and it is important for you to realize the impact of our lesson today."<p>

He pauses, clearing his throat, before his voice drops: "Today, you will learn about the Hunger Games"

My face snaps up suddenly, he is commanding my full attention. The Hunger Games are some secret topic that no one is allowed to talk about until upper school. No one even know what they are until then. I was really looking forward to this year because of that, and I am surprised that he would jump in with such a weighty topic on the second day of school.

I pay close attention as he outlines the basic things that we've all been itching to learn about since kindergarten:

"As a result of the dark ages and to prevent further nuclear war and rebellion, the Capitol of Panem instituted the Hunger Games. Each year, one young man and women randomly selected (or reaped) from each of the twelve districts were to be offered as tributes to fight to the death in an artificial arena created by the Gamemakers. There were a total of 74 complete games, the 75 was cut off unexpectedly. The last tribute alive was crowned victor, and lavish gifts of food and money were bestowed on him and his district. As you all know, this area was once known as District 12. It had a total of four victors. Three of them are still alive. Lysmachia, name two of the victors."

I was surprised by his question; how was I supposed to know the victors?

"Um..., I don't know."

"Oh really?" Now it was his turn to be surprised.

"Well, ask your parents, I'm sure they remember."

"Yes sir." I respectfully respond, although I know I won't. Mom is still gone, and Dad is too wrapped up in her to help with homework. I'll look around though, maybe they have some books around or something else about the victors.  
>He continues in his lecture on the capitol and the motives behind the games. As he talks, I wonder how Mom and Dad felt, living thorough these times. It sounds so horrible. I now think I understand, why Mom wants to protect us; she's grown up in a brutal environment.<p>

I'm so glad I'm born now, in this safe place, where the Hunger Games will never happen again.

Or, at least I hope so.

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><p><em>YAY! The secret has been revealed. So, besides Gale, are there any characters you would like to see? Please review and PM me with any things I forgot to explain about their current situation. <em>


	6. Trains and TV

_I am SOOOOOOOOO sorry I haven't posted in over a week. I had writers block and I wanted to make sure this next few chapters were perfect because they are the big ones (if ya know what I mean)! Sorry for the lame title but I didn't want to give away too much. _

_Lysmachia is going to have the ride of her life… :-D_

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><p><strong>Peeta's POV<strong>

I stay by her side all day, forcing her to get dressed and sit upright on the couch. As I watch her, I paint, trying desperately to act as if things were fine, which they aren't.

Soon after lunch, I hear a knock at the door. I run to answer it, hoping it is Dr. Everdeen. Thankfully, it is. She greets me civilly, but I know she is very anxious about her daughter.

When she sees her, she lets out a gasp. "Oh no, she really is gone." She captures Katniss in an embrace that, had she been aware, she would have returned it gladly. But now, she just stares blankly off into space.  
>"Peeta, don't worry, she'll be OK." She says, noticing that I am wringing my hands with dismay at Katniss' state.<br>"Do you have a extra syringe? I might need it, if this doesn't work."  
>"I don't know. I have to make a snack for the kids since their coming home from school soon."<br>"Ok, one question though, "  
>"What?"<br>"What set her off? Was it Gale?"  
>"Gale? What do you mean, he's all the way back in District 4 with Annie, how could he have said anything to her?" I ask incredulously.<br>"Um..., he lives a few miles down the road from here..."  
>"What road, Gale is here?"<p>

Shock and the fear, oh the fear, of all the things he could have done to her,  
>if he had seen her. What could he have said to make her withdraw?<p>

Dr. Everdeen sees the panic rising on my face and starts to explain: "Gale arrived on the train a couple weeks ago. He wanted to enroll his kids in school. I forget how many he has now..., but anyway he wanted them to grow up where he did. I figure he would've visited you by now. He must still be busy with settling in."

"No, he hasn't come to visit yet, it was the flowers that set her off, the roses." I cling to this fact, reminding myself that Gale didn't make her withdraw, the flowers did, and she was safe from the memories that he would bring back.

"Oh, then it can't be that bad... I'll have to adjust her dose though, hmm, I need to add this and-"

"Dad, We're home!" I run to hug my children, the only things left untainted by fear and pain.

**Lysmachia's POV**

I look over Dad's shoulder an survey the room. Mom is lying still on the couch. Next to her, are little bottles, various sizes of syringes, and a woman, probably in her early sixties she refuses to tell us her age despite our frequent laughing inquiries. I smile at her, but I know not to talk to her when she is busy with a patient. "Hi Grandma!": I say, even though I shouldn't disturb her. Lich refuses to talk to her, as usual. He need time to adjust to her, he is always shy with strangers.

"Did you have a nice day at school?" Dad interjects suddenly.

"It was OK. We're going to learn about the days of destruction soon. I can't wait! We have some homework to do, so we should probably go upstairs."Dad looks up quickly when I mention the days of destruction.

"You're not ready to learn that yet! You just started school two days ago."  
>"I don't know why dad, I just know I have to read up on them. We have a test in two weeks and I like to be prepared."<br>"Hold off on the research for a while ok love bug? I want to talk to Mom about that..."  
>"Alright, I'll be upstairs if you need me!"<p>

Once we are out of earshot I look at Lich, he nods. We don't want Dad to worry, but he obviously doesn't have time to help us research the victors. So, we agreed to sneak into the library, pretendi to be watching the television, and do a little digging around. Lich rifles through a pile of movies that we barely watch; they are all stuffed in an old cabinet in the back of the room.

"Hey Lys, look at this, I found something!"  
>"What?"<br>"I don't know it just says 50, the rest is faded off."  
>"Let's not watch that..., c'mon there's gotta be something good."<p>

I dig through the pile, reaching far back into the cabinet, until my fingers clutch a stack of old DVDs that nobody uses any more. (I mean seriously, DVDs? Video chips are so much better...) I read the labels, _Mockingjay propos, District appeals, The Victory Tour_.

"This one might be good, it has the word victor in it." I suggest, pointing to the last one.  
>"Nah, it sounds boring..." Lich objects.<br>"I think it looks fine."  
>"Well, I don't, um..., what about this one?" He offers, digging his hand deep in the pile, and pulling out a random video.<br>"OK, fine, whatever I don't really care."  
>I pop it into the skinny slot by the screen and flop back on the couch. When the words come on the screen, I sit straight up. Like in class today, my full attention is commanded. The last words I expected to hear resound from the speakers: "Happy Hunger Games!"<p>

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><p><em>Dun, dun, dun… Haha, cliffhanger! Anyway, Annie is going to be in the story maybe in 3-4 chapters and Gale is living next door (almost). Do you guys want me to bring back Haymitch and Effie? Please review, review, review!<em>


	7. The Forbidden Movie

_Ok guys, thank you so much for bearing with me as I perfect this chapter, you've been great! I'm sorry it took so long to upload but you want it to be good, right? In the future, I'll try to aim for week intervals, I think that's more realistic for this section of my story._

**Lysmachia's POV**  
>The words sink in and I pause the video.<p>

"I'm sorry Lich, but I think we should wait until Mom and Dad go to bed."  
>"Lys, are you kidding me? We just started watching it, and Dad's too busy with Gram to worry about us."<br>"Alright, I just feel weird about sneaking behind Dad's back."  
>"Well, don't it's not like we're lying to him, he didn't say we couldn't watch TV today."<br>"But, he said we couldn't use the TV last week after we ruined my old baby tape."  
>"Oh, c'mon, he won't mind... He won't even notice."<p>

That last comment won me over, but I still felt uneasy. We could get into a lot of trouble if we ruined another of Dad's old irreplaceable tapes. I press the button, and quickly turn down the volume, way down. Music plays as a blur of pictures flicker on the screen. I pause it again, and Lich and I scoot nearer.

Each picture is of three people, two kids and one adult, standing on a stage. Sometimes there is another adult in the background, but all the pictures flash by so fast I don't really pay attention to the people. There are eleven pictures.

This must be the shortened, three-hour version of one of the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games. The words fill me with excitement. I am sure to get extra credit for this. I try to get my bearings. What happens first? They have to pick the kids, so these must be the reapings. But why only eleven pictures? Shouldn't there be one for each district?  
>I click the play button and the music fades to show the camera panning across a sea of teenagers. Some look dark and thin, while others look pale and alert. But the looks are the same: anxiety. For some, it is obvious, for others it is hidden behind masks that are beginning to crack.<p>

The cameras focus on the stage where a man and a woman stand. The man is relatively normal, except for his old-fashioned clothes, but the woman has a bright green suit that completely clashes with her pink hair. She is sitting next to the man on a small rickety stage and she grimaces through her plastered smile as she walks across the faded boards to the microphone. Towards the back of the stage are three chairs, one of which the women was sitting in, and the other is filled with the man. He is a small, stiff man who is sitting straight in his seat, trying to look official. The third chair is empty, which is strange, there should be at least one mentor present, and the man has a little badge identifying him as the mayor so he can't be a mentor. I'm confused until the cameras pan to a man, who is lying on the ground in front of the stage, completely unconscious. Perhaps he is the mentor, and they repeatedly pan to him to keep him included, despite his, well, incongruous appearance and position (It's not really becoming of any person, much less a mentor, to be face down on the ground).  
>The women begins to speak and the microphone gives a squeak as her high pitched voice is transmitted throughout the square. She has something in her hand, I'm not sure what it is, it's too small to see. As the camera zooms in on what I now recognize as a piece of paper, she reads two words. I can't hear what she says though, until the sea of children part for a small blond girl. The women must have been calling her. She looks familiar but I can't place her and by now the camera is panning quickly to the stage, following the path of the young girl. Just when the girl reaches the stage another girl, this one brown-haired and a bit older, runs forward and shoves the girl off the stairs to the stage as she screams, "I volunteer, I volunteer as tribute!"<p>

The fear, desperation, and almost insanity are obvious on her face and in her voice until she heaves a deep breath and composes her face. The small girl has wrapped her arms around the larger girl's waist, keeping her from stepping onto the stage. You can see the struggle on her face until a rugged boy pushes through the crowd and throws the small girl over his shoulder. He meets the brown haired girl's eyes for a second and I notice that they look remarkably alike. The girl and boy share the same eye, hair, and skin color. However the girl is rather skinny and her face has a pinched sour look. She quickly wipes her face clan of emotions though, and she walks stiffly up to the stage to stand by lady.  
>The women grip her shoulder tightly: "What is your name?" The girl shakily responds "Katniss Everdeen." Her unsteady voice echoes throughout the square of supposedly indifferent people. It doesn't register until the women begins to gush again "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we!"<p>

Then it clicks: I know that name and I know both girls. My mother's name is Katniss. She had a small blond sister, Daddy painted her into the book. The pieces come together to form one train of thought: My mother was reaped into The Hunger Games.

Then the women calls forth a boy. Her voice is so strange, almost like a high-pitched shriek that I only catch the last syllable of the phrase 'arc'. The boy arrives at the stage uneventfully, although his face is focused on the ground. When he shakes my mother's hand and raises his face, Lich and I draw in a collective breath. That face, though a lot younger than it is now, is sitting in our living room. Dad was reaped for the Hunger Games too!  
>The impossibility of the idea muddles with my brain until I realize that we are not alone in the room. I look up and the intruder leans against the doorframe. "So you finally know? About time really..."<p>

_I hope you enjoyed the strange ending I put there. I was writing the chapter and had no idea on how to end it, so I just ended it abruptly. No, I'm not telling who the intruder is, sorry, you have to wait a week to see. Do you have any ideas for the names of Gale's kids? I'm drawing a blank and that's why I've been holding back on introducing Gale. Don't forget to review, review, review!_


	8. A Whirlpool of Emotions

_In honor of the Hunger Games movie release….Chapter 8! Finally, the chapter is finished! It took awhile because I lost computer privileges for a week, and then I had an exam to take, but it is done. Thank you for giving all those names for Gale's kids, I really appreciate it. The name I chose is introduced in this chapter so read away : )_

**Lysmachia's POV**

She stands there, not asking any questions, just watching us with a bemused smile on her face. "I knew you would find out sooner or later, you're both smart kids. I just didn't expect it to be now." Gram's quiet voice is both unexpected and light, considering the situation that she caught us in. I would have expected her to scold us. "I'm kind of in a bind with Katniss not doing well, otherwise I'd let them finish explaining. Peeta is not going to like this; he really wanted to tell you when Katniss was well enough to help him fill in the gaps."  
>At first, I am speechless from the events in the video, and from her attitude towards the situation, but then the words come pouring out in torrents: "What happened exactly, why is Mom not well, and why hasn't anyone explained what's going on here?" I struggle with my brain as I try to accept the connection between my distant images of the Capitol and my parents who are right outside the doorway. In that sentence I asks the questions that both me and Lich have waited too long to ask.<p>

"There is so much that you deserve to know, that neither I nor your parents can fully explain..." Her voice trails off into almost a whisper, then she raises it: "Come with me there's someone you need to meet..."  
>"Ok, Gram! C'mon Lich." Very rarely does Lich accept my direction, but this time he knows I am too fragile to confront. We follow Gram into the living room where Mom and Dad are sitting on the couch.<br>"I'm just taking the kids for some fresh air, they look positively pale. When you were young, you always had a nice tan look, and yet you let your children wither without sunlight. Really Katniss, you could use a few tips about parenting." Gram scolds lightheartedly at Mother, as she always does. Usually my Mom has a retort ready, but this time Mom only gives a small smile, she doesn't respond with her usual sharp humor. She must be feeling better though, if she's smiling, and the thought puts me somewhat at ease, even though she is still so obviously distant.

I grab a sweatshirt and clamber up into Gram's wagon. As we rattle down the road I don't speak, even though I am bursting with curiosity about where we are going. However, I know Gram won't say anything until we get to our unknown destination. I dig my nails into the wooden carriage seat and watch the trees shiver in the autumn wind, until Gram turns off the dirt path and pushes straight into the tall grass. The carriage wheels find the hidden grooves of a little-traveled path in the thick grass. Finally, the grass parts to reveal a small clearing amidst the dense woods. In the center of the clearing is a small house, where two young girls are playing. The younger one looks up in surprise and races to the house, her long braid trailing behind her.  
>"Daddy! Mammy's here!" Her shrill voice summons a middle-aged woman, whose brown hair is streaked with grey. The smiling woman appears from around the back of the house, her pink dress fluttering as she runs to swing her little girl. "Daddy can't hear you out here remember? Mammy will have to go inside."<br>Gram smiles at the older girl: "Well, don't you look grown up with your braid clipped on your head? You look wonderful! You're looking well as well, Rosemary. How's Corren doing?"  
>The older woman responds, "Well enough, under the circumstances, he's still having trouble adjusting, but after a few weeks he should be fine."<br>"Yes, adjusting to a new school is always difficult. How do you like the area?"  
>I slide down the seat onto the wheel, then jump to the ground. "Um, Gram?"<br>"Oh, yes, I almost forgot about you, Rosemary, this is Lysimachia, my granddaughter. Lys, this is Mrs. Hawthorne."  
>I nod my head at Mrs. Hawthorne and dart a glare at Lich. He nods at Mrs. Hawthorne, then he keeps his head down.<br>"My you look just like Corren! Well, except for your blond hair, how funny." She says to Lich.  
>"This is Lich, my grandson, their parents live right down the road."<br>"We'll have to visit them sometime. Excuse my manners, would you like to come inside? I'm sure Gale would love to see you."  
>"Of course, he said over the phone he wouldn't be busy today."<br>And with that, we walk through the thick grass that pokes through my sandals. I reach the door first, and cautiously knock on the screen door.  
>A deep voice sounds from within: "Corren, get the door will you?" Then the boy, Corren opens the door. I gasp as I look at his eyes. Those deep grey eyes, I remember them. The strange boy from school is standing right in front of me, and I am speechless. He, however, seem to have expected my arrival, and nods coolly.<br>He sticks his hand out and gruffly mutters, "Lysimachia, right? I'm Corren." After I make another furtive glance to his face, he disappears from my view as he runs up the stairs to the upper level of the house.  
>Something about that boy makes me very uncomfortable. Maybe it's his searching gaze, that seems to read all my thoughts in a second. Or maybe it's the way that he looks unabashed into my eyes every time we meet, filling me with anxiety so I am always the first to look away.<br>I stand on the bright doormat, very unconcerted at the recent events. Mrs. Hawthorne glides into the room and greets her husband with a breezy "You have visitors dear. Can you show them into the side porch? I have to work with the girls on their homework, two days in and they're already behind." With a light laugh, she motions to the girls who are exchanging knowing glances. When the little one looks up questioningly Rosemary gasps. "Oh, right! I forgot, we have to finish that before -" Her voice breaks off and she looks worriedly upstairs. "Let's hurry before he catches on." The Hawthorne girls troop obediently after their mother into the kitchen.

Mr. Hawthorne leads us out a side door I had not noticed before, and onto wide porch, which is surrounded by a screen nailed into the wood to keep the bugs out, but I doubt there are any out now. It gives a nice view of the small lawn and the thinning forest beyond it. They must have cleared out quite a lot of trees, because in our woods, once you hit them, you are in the thick of it. Here it tapers off, with straggling trees sprawling across the backyard.

Lich has no patience for this, he just wants to go home and he looks at me imploringly. But when I see that look, I quickly discourage him with a slight shake of my head combined with a violent glare. If he thinks I'm going home without learning the whole story, he is sorely mistaken. I look at Gram expectantly, but she seems to be taking her sweet time as she small talks with Mr. Hawthorne.

"So Gale, is it Corren's birthday already? I can't believe he'll be fifteen next week. Well, they do grow up fast."

"Yes, I'm having a hard time believing it myself. It's been nice living near Annie and the ocean, but I really missed living here, in the woods. I really wanted my kids to have that experience as well."

Suddenly I can't take it, I've waited the whole ride here, plus all the stalling outside and in the entry hall, and then if you want to count all the years I've pondered my mother's nightmares, it really adds up.

So that's why I think I am partially justified when I rudely interrupt their little chat with my own thoughts. "Ok, what's going on? First you sneak us out of the house under Mom and Dad's noses, then you drag us to the house of this strange guy, and now you talk to him like he's your son and leave us both sitting here utterly confused and frustrated." I snap at Gram, she may think this whole thing is amusing, but I sure don't.

"Oh, Lysimachia, I'm sorry, this is Mr. Hawthorne, he was a… _friend _of your mother's, his family lived right down the road from us when Katniss was growing up. Ah.., I remember those days. My, we have come a long way." Gram sighs happily in remembrance of those long-ago days.

"So?" I prod, hoping someone will start explaining something. The sounds coming from that TV still resound in my head: "I volunteer, I volunteer as tribute!" My mother screamed like that. She still screams like that. But what I want to know is why, and somebody better tell me soon, because I may be the happy-go-lucky child, but I've been through a lot in the past couple of days and I'm not putting up with anymore of it.

"What was my mother like?" I wonder

"She was very…., determined. She had strong likes and dislikes. If she liked you, her loyalty was unswerving." He stops for a minute; overwhelmed by the memories my question has brought to his mind.

"We had wonderful times, your mother and I, we were hunting partners. We met when she was eleven and we still talk sometimes, but once I started moving around, we didn't really talk much. She was much too busy taking care of you two. From the looks of it, she had her hand full." The mischievous smile that lights up his face comes so easily that I begin to feel somewhat at ease.

"So, what about the tape? You were the boy weren't you? The boy that carried away my mother's little sister."

"What tape?"

"The tape of the Hunger Games that my mother and father were in together."

"I caught them watching it and that's why I brought it, so you could explain what happened." Gram interjects.

"What? Not me…, let Katniss do it when they're older and ready to handle it all. They're too young now." He objects.

Anger boils up inside me and I burst out: "Listen, I'm 14, OK! I'm not some little child you can ignore anymore. I have a right to know why my mother has been locked in a cage of emotional trauma for the past few days, and why my father stiffened yesterday at the sight of Mom like he was afraid of her, and …" My voice trails into a whisper now and my throat tightens: "... and why her nightmares engulf her in such pain that she screams in terror in the middle of the night, but during the day lovingly pretends our world is picture-perfect." My words are almost drowned by the sob that bursts through my throat as I utter my last, plaintive cry: "Why?"

I look up now and see their faces, looking painfully at my breakdown. They will never think of me as mature after that outburst, and immediately I regret it. But that's beside the point, Gram needs to understand what it's like for us. I am so frustrated with myself, with Gram, and with this man who isn't so strange after all. I remember him from that day on the playground when he picked up Corren. The frustration builds in my chest, and I am afraid I will yell again. I take one look at Lich, then turn on my heel and run out of the room.

During my tearful flight to find the entry hall, I bump into one of those frustrating Hawthornes. I try to push past the person, wanting nothing to do with any of them ever again. But then, my arms are pinned to my sides, and I struggle for a second until the strong Hawthorne who dared to obstruct my path to the door meets my eyes. The tension seeps out of my arms as I look into those eyes. That gaze, sends shivers through me. It's as if he knows exactly what I'm thinking. The strange feeling would normally unnerve me and make me shift my gaze, except for the fact that no matter how much I want to look away, I can't. And then, I realize I don't want to. And with that realization, I give a shy smile.

_Aw….. I just loved writing this chapter, I really got to develop the characters! This is my longest one yet, I'm so proud of myself. Do you think I'm giving too much description in the chapters, especially when I describe the reaping (in Chapter 7)? Please R&R and tell me what you think!_


	9. Are you ok?

_All right, get excited, because I write a short part in Gale's POV and a short part in Katniss' POV, it took a while, but I think I kept them in character. If not please tell me what lines are OOC because I'm really trying to keep this believable._

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><p>Gale's POV<p>

Lysimachia's words are like a punch in the stomach. The determination in them reminds me so much of Katniss that it hurts. This girl is turning out to be lot like her mother, although I never would have guessed it from her appearance. They share the same height, but the resemblance stops there. Lysimachia has light brown hair that falls a few inches below her shoulders, cobalt blue eyes, and an ever-present smile that is irresistible. However, something happened, a switch went off and suddenly she sounded just like Katniss. I wonder if she realizes how much her daughter is like her.

As she storms out of the room, I turn to Dr. Everdeen.  
>"What was that for?" I ask.<br>"She's not feeling well." Lich volunteers.  
>"I'm very surprised at her behavior, I'm sorry Gale, she's not usually like that." Gram apologizes.<br>"That's fine, she's right you know. She does deserve to know."  
>"Absolutely, although she didn't have to be rude about it." Gram affirms<br>"Never mind, I'll go get her, you put in the disc, OK?"  
>I walk into the family room and suddenly I freeze. Corren is holding Lysimachia's shoulders back and smiling at her in a goofy way.<p>

Lysimachia's POV

I stand there smiling at Corren, and suddenly he takes a quick step back from me and looks to the floor. I'm confused until I hear Mr. Hawthorne's voice over my shoulder: "Are you OK?" He is concerned about me, which is strange, considering I just met him a half-hour ago. My anger gone now, I smile sheepishly at him: "Yea, sorry about that, I didn't mean to yell at you. I'm fine."  
>Gram runs in from the porch and shakes her head slightly at me, frowning. I nod back at her, acknowledging her instructions, and then smile politely at Mr. Hawthorne. "My behavior was inexcusable, and I apologize for my breach of manners as a guest in this house. Will you please forgive me?"<p>

"Well then, that's an impressive apology! I agree with what you said before, you do deserve to know, and I'm here to tell you. But you should probably finish the tape before I confuse you."  
>"But it's three hours long and my parents will be wondering where I am!"<br>"Come over tomorrow then, I'll pick you up from school."  
>Gram nods approval so I agree. "Sure, see you then!"<br>Then Corren chimes in: "We can drive you home now."  
>"Gram can drive us, that's fine" I object.<br>"That's a good idea Corren, it's about time we visited your house. It's right down the road right?" Mr. Hawthorne says.  
>"Alright Gale, if you want to come, you can come, but let's get moving." Gram prods Lich and me out the door.<p>

I climb into the wagon and make sure to sit between Lich and Corren in the wide back. I lean slightly so that my shoulder is _just_ touching Corren's, as we drive down the dusty old road, this time in the opposite direction, towards home.  
>When we arrive, Lich is the first to jump out of the carriage. "Mom, we have visitors!" He calls, ignoring the fact that she probably won't answer. "Lich, stop yelling, she can't hear you." I'm right, she doesn't respond. I lead the Hawthornes into <em>our <em>entry hall this time and instruct them to take off their shoes. I accidentally bump the rack of coats and the bar falls on Mr. Hawthorne's head. He falls with a sharp cry of pain and I run to get Mom, but half-way into the living room I remember that she won't respond. To my astonishment, Mom is sitting upright, just as shocked as I am: "Did I just hear...?" The first I've heard of her voice in three days trails off in confusion. She throws the covers off and jumps to the floor, already halfway to the foyer.  
>Gram is pulling the coats off Mr. Hawthorne and Mom leans down to help. When Dad's heavy winter coat falls off Mr. Hawthorne's face, Mom gasps, then sobs as she hugs him violently through all the winter gear.<p>

Katniss' POV (earlier that day before Dr. Everdeen comes)

My mind slowly tries to regain consciousness, but I can't seem to think properly. I was asleep, on the couch apparently, but I don't remember what happened before that. I force my brain to remember what happened yesterday, and as I do, I feel a vague twist of terror and anger. I struggle to put aside the emotions and remember the event that caused them. Then, I remember, and terror courses through me: President Snow is watching me, I can feel it, somehow, he is watching every move I make. In the back of my mind, a little fact is nagging at me, reminding me that Snow is dead, but I don't listen to it, my fear is too strong. Faintly, but growing steadily stronger, is the smell of roses, and with that scent comes many memories: Finnick and the reptile mutts, visiting the Victor's Village after the bombings in 12, and way back when President Snow visited me after the first games and warned me about the uprisings, and my 'cousin'. My cousin Gale, who isn't really my cousin. Gale. Oh, I wish he were here I miss him so much.

The pain in my middle is so strong, that flickers of emotion flit across my face, but not for long. I hold it in, pushing the emotions and memories deep into the back of my head and it begins to throb, but I don't complain. I can't complain, I can't speak. Besides, who would I complain to? I am alone in my world of nightmares and memories. I have a vague sense of my body, of where I am lying, but I can't see my surroundings. My eyes are blank, like my face.

After a while, the pain dulls to a constant ache, but the memories don't diminish in atrocity. I think of the bombings in 12, and see Gale leading everyone through the fire, but then, just as he is carrying Prim to safety, a stray bomb falls in front of them, blocking my view of their horrific deaths. Just as the bomb goes off, my mind transports me to the Capitol, outside President Snow's mansion. I watch Gale mouth the words that I understand too late, and then the parachutes fall, and the children catch them, expecting something lifesaving just as they have always seen in the games. But, just as I see Prim catch one, fire explodes into the sky and I run to her, once again too late to save her.

That brings me back to District 12, deep in the mines where my father is working. Just before the explosion, I scream at him to run, but he can't hear me and I am left alone, with a starving sister and a half-dead mother.

I remember those months, watching Prim try to do without more and more food, and me waiting for my Mother to wake up, to take care of me, to love me again. But she didn't, so I shut her out, pretended that I didn't need her, but I did, and I especially do now. I wish she was here to help me, but I know that she is gone, just like everyone else. I am alone.

My mind swirls and I feel light-headed. Something pricks my arm and I feel a faint throb in my arm. Since I haven't really felt the presence of time or a sense of my body it is a welcome change. Slowly, I have no way to judge how long, the tension in my chest is relieved. When I hear my mother's voice, I cringe expecting at any moment to hear her shriek or to see her violently destroyed in some sickening way.

But I feel my eyes blink, and when they rise I see her talking to Peeta. Peeta! My heart leaps, he is fine, scarred, like me, but he is alive and well. I notice a crease in his brow and he is wringing his hands. Then he turns and begins to pace the room. I realize that the children are gone and a jolt of paralyzing fear courses through my body.

I can see Lysimachia's sweet, smiling face twisted in pain as she screams a continuous cry for help. But I can't help her, I am frozen. I see Lich's little hands shaking as he tries to stand, but his muscles are too weak, he is starving and he is silently begging me for food, but I have nothing to give him.

Then I flashback to the reaping and instead of Primrose Everdeen, Lysimachia Mellark resounds from the speakers and I mouth 'I volunteer', but I know that I can't volunteer. I am helpless as I watch her climb the stage.

Then I am in the arena and I hear her screaming my name. I run to her but Marvel plunges a spear deep into her body, killing my daughter. _My_ child.

Relief washes over me as I hear her voice, loud, but not in pain: "Dad, we're home!"

I bask in the happiness until they leave the room. Then I hear my mother grinding various herbs under her pestle, and for a minute, I think I am sixteen again, but I then I feel Peeta's gentle touch along my face. "Katniss, I'm here, please come back. The kids need you. Can you hear me?" His face is close to mine now, looking intently into my tormented eyes.  
>"Try to get a response from her, awake her senses. Try to replace the smells she hates with some other smell. Keep the blankets around her. Make sure she feels safe." Mom advises, then walks to the study room.<p>

Peeta tucks the blankets that I was not aware up until this moment around me, then crosses to the kitchen. When he comes back from the oven, he has a small bun in his hand. He breaks of a part and puts it to my lips. I don't think I can move, but my mouth automatically takes the bread. It is warm and cheesy and I smile at the familiar taste.

Encouraged by my smile he feeds me the rest, bit by bit. He reaches forward to wipe my mouth with his apron, but I take it from him and wipe my face myself. He grins at my regained ability to move and leans down to kiss my nose. I shift my face slightly, and lean forward, until my lips are touching his. His hair brushes against my forehead and I smile into the kiss. Finally, he breaks the kiss and I fall back on the couch, grinning at Peeta.

"You're feeling better!" His excitement is obvious from his beaming face. I push myself into a sitting position and lean back against the pillows that Peeta so lovingly put there for my comfort. I close my eyes. I'm so tired, I can feel the drug making my eyelids heavy. Then I realize that my pain is gone, just an inexplicable happiness, that washes over me, a warm wave of contentment. Drat! I hate when I have sleep syrup, I always regret my actions later. But I can't stop myself, not yet, I slowly wipe the flour off of Peeta's face, and then reach up and kiss him lightly on the cheek. Seeing that I am ready to fall asleep, he slides off the couch and moves to the counter to continue his baking. I let out a deep sigh and close my eyes feeling perfectly safe.

My eyes flutter open at the sound of heavy footfalls down the stairs. I hear her talking to me, but my mind is foggy and I can't distinguish the words. I smile at her and finally, I am peacefully sleeping.

...

I wake up to a slam of the front door and I groggily sit up. I don't feel any better though, the sleep syrup just managed to capture me in dream world, not to keep the nightmares away. Suddenly, I hear something. I listen again, I must be dreaming, I couldn't have heard that voice. Then the voice cries out in pain and I am running to the hall, I have to save Gale. I push the coats off him and slam him to the floor in a crushing hug. He is here; and safe; and warm, and _here_. It's not until I let go that I realize that I haven't changed my clothes or taken a shower in 3 days and it is obvious. I stumble back, embarrassed at my exuberance and at my messy appearance. But I shouldn't have worried, he is completely at ease, lying there on my floor as he greets me: "Hey Catnip!"

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><p><em>OK, You guys have should be satisfied now, this chapter is even longer that the last one and I updated on schedule. Side note: I'm working on a Catching Fire one-shot from Peeta's POV so that's why I was a day late with this one (sorry about that…). How'd you like this chapter, I know nothing really happens, but how did I do on the character development? Please review and tell me! <em>


	10. The Father or the Killer

_So, I FINALLY finished this chapter, overcoming the obstacles of writer's block, APs, and the Hunger Games movie (I've seen it in its entirety about four times, but I've watched all the clips people videotaped many, _many_ times.) It's over 3000 words, my longest yet, so I hope that kind of makes up for it._

__**Update:** I posted the unfinished version on Saturday, so here is the newest version. If you read this chapter before 5-14-12, then you might want to read the last couple paragraphs again. I should have checked to make sure I had the right version before I posted it, I'm sorry. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for the reviews. They make my day!__

_Anyway, you probably don't care about the AN, Let Chapter 10 begin!_

**Peeta's POV**  
>I look from Katniss to Gale and a twinge of uneasiness begins to register on my face. None of my efforts had roused her, I spent two days almost continually at her side but she remained unresponsive. Even with the medicine, she was still silent. However, the minute Gale wakes in the door, she is running straight into his arms. I quickly push the thoughts to the side and reach over and hug Lysimachia. "I'm glad you're home lovebug!" Katniss shifts her stance uncomfortably, looking from me to Gale. She smiles faintly, acknowledging my presence. Suddenly the side door swings open and I turn, wondering who would have the audacity to saunter into our house without invitation. Slow footsteps make their way into the living room and stop at the entrance to the foyer. Our visitor looks from Gale to me, then smirks at Katniss, "More boy trouble, eh sweetheart?"<p>

"Haymitch!" Katniss growls as she lunges for him, but her lunge is interrupted by a persistent tapping at the front door. Katniss gives one parting glare to Haymitch then opens the door.  
>"Haymitch! I told you we should have knocked at the <em>front<em> door, they were busy. Hello Katniss dear!" She beams brightly at Katniss for a second, then continues to scold Haymitch: "And furthermore, you forgot to put on your jacket, you know that in order to go out visiting you should look presentable."  
>"Hello Effie, how nice of you to drop in!" I cut in. She smiles approvingly at me, happy to have <em>someone<em> who is observing proper manners. I reach out to shake her hand, but instead of taking it she wraps her arms around me quickly. Then she abruptly steps back, "Peeta, I'm very glad to see you." She lets out a half-hearted laugh to cover up the sob caught in her throat. She is always emotional after she comes back from her visits to 8 where she directs clothing production. Katniss turns to her; "Yes Effie, we _were_busy. Come into the living room, the kids have some explaining to do." and she gives a pointed look to Lysimachia, who is responsible for the presence of the Hawthornes.

**Lysimachia's POV**

I nervously meet Mom's eyes. She is not happy with me, despite the fact that she obviously wanted Mr. Hawthorne here. She probably won't yell at me with Nana and Grandpa here but you never know, Mom is pretty mad now. She is trying to maintain her composure, although her face has already betrayed her obvious frustration with Nana and Grandpa's unexpected visit and the visitors that I dragged in.

I realize to stay out of trouble, I must keep Nana here as long as possible. Mom rarely loses her cool around her and I'm sure she would back me up; she does regardless of my behavior. It is nice to have a grandparent who spoils you, even if she only comes every so often and isn't blood-related. I beam at her and run into her arms. "I'm _so_ glad to see you Nana!" : I gush. it isn't entirely manipulative because I really am glad to see her. She hugs me back, completely oblivious to the tension in the room. She lets out light, breathy laugh. Well, maybe she does feel the tension after all.  
>I take her hand in mine and guide her to her favorite chair in the living room. It has a tall back with a deep plush seat, covered in cobalt velvet. The little mahogany feet are carved to look like flowers, the petals delicately resting on the floor and the stalks winding up to the seat.<p>

She gently slides into the chair, taking great care to preserve the velvet. I warily sit on the couch next to Grandpa. I'm sure that if worst comes to worst, I could always find a way to direct her anger towards me at him. It wouldn't be that hard since she is already restraining herself from making some choice remarks.  
>I'm not usually one to scheme, but with Mom you have to be wary. So, I sit on the couch and wait for the ensuing interrogation.<br>Then I run through why I'm in trouble. What have I done? The only thing I did that I see as wrong was touching Dad's old videos, but I don't understand how Mom found out so soon.

When we are all situated on our respective seats, Dad begins to talk.  
>"Lysimachia, would you like to explain where you were the whole afternoon?"<br>"And explain your guests?" Mom adds.  
>I sit up straighter and I begin: "Well, this is Mr. Hawthorne and his son, Corren. I was at their house. Gram took me." I refrain from adding the part about the video, just in case they don't know yet.<br>"You weren't feeling so well and Peeta was busy and I was in a tricky situation." She pauses, filling the room with silence.  
>"They were fooling around on the TV and they saw your reaping." Thanks a lot, Gram! Now we are sure to get in trouble, for her words have struck every person in the room into silence. Everyone seems to know what that means. Within minutes every eye is on me.<br>"I'm sorry, I was just doing History homework!" I defend myself, looking pleadingly at Dad, whose face has darkened.  
>"I told you to hold off on that, why didn't you listen?" He demands harshly.<br>"Well that's that!" Grandpa sighs and slouches further down on the couch beside me.  
>"You're little flowers have been defiled, now you have to tell them."<br>Mom, recovering from her shock, turns from gaping at me, to glaring at Grandpa. I must say I prefer that infinitely better. Who knew we would have caused this much trouble. I reach out beside me and pat Lich's arm to comfort him and to remind him that this was partially his idea, so he should take some credit for it.  
>Gram get up: "Katniss, I don't think you're in any condition to talk right now, just let them watch the tape. I'll cook dinner while Haymitch, Effie, and Gale answer questions. I'll write a note for school so they won't get in trouble for not doing their homework. Does that work dear?"<br>"Alright." Mom relents and sighs. She suddenly hugs me so harshly I'm afraid I will suffocate. Just as quickly, she lets go and turns to Dad, looking for reassurance. He gives her a bright smile, then he turns to the kitchen to prepare dinner with Gram.  
>Gram ushers us through the door and into the library then turns back to the kitchen. Mr. Hawthorne allows us to sit before popping in the disk and starting the flow of answers that by now I'm dying to know.<br>I'm sitting with my back against the recliner with Lich on my left and Corren on my right. "Corren, I guess this is a good time as any to explain my childhood." He begins. "I was very close to Mrs.-Katniss. We were best friends. We supported each other and we were never confused about our relationship. Well, at least she wasn't. But that all changed after the Hunger Games. you'll understand once you see this. To catch you up Corren, Katniss's younger sister was picked, then she volunteered. Mr. Mellark was reaped as well. I considered volunteering, but I knew that I had to take care of her sister Prim." His face is twisted into a pained expression and his breathing becomes ragged. "I knew she would never forgive me if I did volunteer and left Prim helpless." For I minute, I think he will cry but he doesn't, he just starts the video.

Mr. Hawthorne speeds through the reapings and quickly stops it at the sight of a large avenue with large rows of seats on either side. The seats are filled with a neon rainbow of 'lucky' Capitol citizens who had enough money to buy tickets. The Hunger Games were a great source of revenue of the government, as well as a means of control over the outlying districts. Maybe History class is good for something after all.

A row of chariots ride slowly down the avenue, giving the tributes time to capture the hearts of the spectators. The first chariot's tributes are decked out in fuchsia and silver outfits, a silver suit with fuchsia lining for the boy, a fuchsia dress with metallic silver accents for the girl.

The next pair are dressed like ancient gods, decked in gold armor. I watch the tributes behavior. You would think that while standing in a moving chariot, there's not much you can do, but all the teenagers are working some angle. There are the careers who do everything short of falling out of the chariot to gain the audience's favor. District 2's tributes are playing it strong with crossed arms, confident smirks, and the occasional wave.  
>The chariots flash by but none of them are as impressive as Districts 1 and 2. Finally, we have reached the end and 11 is slowly riding out into the avenue. The tributes are complete opposites. The boy is nearly twice the height of the girl and his face is set in a fierce scowl. Perhaps, he is attempting to be a career. The girl is a small wisp of a girl; she shivers in her baggy overalls as the camera passes over her. District 11 goes a bit faster now, all the fun is over. Then the last chariot turns the corner into the avenue: District 12. I look eagerly to see what Mom and Dad are wearing, then I gasp. They are on fire! My throat tightens, but I remember that they must have made it out alive because they are both alive today.<br>As I look closer, I see the shine of the black unitards and the way the fake flames blast without the gentleness and coloring of real fire. The orange is too bright to be real, and the flame flickers spastically, too quickly to be really affected by shifting levels of oxygen. I sigh in relief, until I realize the worst is yet to come: they are going to have to kill people. I'm sure that some tribute tried to kill them as well, you just can't escape that in the arena. I gulp in anticipation.

Then the screen turns purple. Wait, not completely purple, I can just make out a man in the middle. Then the purple lights dim and I see that he is wearing a shimmering blue suit and standing on a stage surrounded by flashing boards. I'm surprised he didn't dye his skin blue, he is that covered in varying shades of sparkling blue. That how the Capitol was, alway bright and flamboyant as my teacher would say acting as if it has been hundreds of years when its only been about 30. The man's blue hair must be covered in some sort of sparkly powder because it shimmers under the lights as he raises his microphone and exclaims: "Welcome, welcome, welcome to the 74th Hunger Games!" The camera pans over the sea of assorted hats and wigs then zooms in on a couple of faces. But of course, this video is only three hours long and is has to cover over two weeks of events, so immediately they cut to the announcer again: "From District 12, you know her as the girl on fire. But we know her as the lovely Katniss Everdeen!"

And with that, a young girl in a flowing red dress stumbles onto the stage. "I forgot about that step, I should have warned her in her heels and all..." Nana murmurs. I'm confused until I realize that she wasn't Mrs. Mellark forever, she had another last name once, long ago. It doesn't sound right to me though, Katniss Mellark sounds infinitely better than Katniss Everdeen.

I gasp at the screen as I take in her appearance. This can't be my mother. Her hair, dress, and make-up have been beautifully done, something which I never get to see on her anymore. And what makes it more strange is that she is nervous. My mother is never nervous. Uncomfortable yes, but never nervous, never afraid to say what she thinks.

She repeatedly attempts to wipe her hands on her dress but they slide off the slick fabric. Through the whole interview she keeps a huge smile on her face, especially while talking about her dress. She twirls several times at the interviewer's request and it appears as if her dress is going up in flames. The effect is amazing. "Took her forever to get that smile down." mutters Grandpa. When she finally gets dizzy she begins to giggle as she steadies herself with the help of the blue interviewer. This is nothing like my mother. My mind cannot connect this giggly young teenager with my middle-aged mother who rarely smiles so broadly now.

The screen zooms out from her dress and pans to the blue guy. It focuses on his exaggerated laugh for a minute, then pans out to reveal a young man, decked in a black suit with sparkling red accents. He smiles a winning smile, and instantly I recognize him. My father still smiles like that. The blue guy yells "Peeta, peeta, welcome!" as the cheers subside. Then the interview commences, the music in the background blurs the words as the camera switches from shots of Dad to shots of Mom. The music begins to fade and I can make out the blue guy's voice again: "So, Peeta, tell me is there a special girl back home?"

"Well, uh, there is this one girl that I've had a crush on forever, but I don't think she actually recognized me till the reaping."  
>"I'll tell you what Peeta, you go out there, and you win this thing. And when you get home, she'll <em>have<em> to go out with you. Right folks?" His proposition is met with loud approval, which soon quiets as Dad begins to answer.  
>"Thanks but I, uh, I don't think winnings gonna help me at all."<br>"And why not?"  
>He sighs then responds slowly: "Because she came here with me."<br>The cameras find my blushing mother and I smile. I didn't realize they liked each other when they were teenagers. But then I realize where they are going. I think back to class: "The last tribute alive would be crowned victor", meaning all the others would be dead. But they are both alive today, what happened? I look in confusion to Grandpa, but he just smirks and nods toward the TV where the camera is sweeping the arena.

The tributes rise from the ground and the announcer begins the countdown. I look to see what he is counting down for, but then I realize that all the tributes are preparing to run. They must be required to wait. I look for Mom and there she is set to run into the center. The camera flashes to where Dad is set to run to the surrounding woods. Doesn't he want to be with Mom? I look to Mr. Hawthorne to explain. He stops the tape, but Grandpa objects: "Oh, she'll figure it out eventually, just keep going."  
>Mr. Hawthorne ignores him and begins to explain: "The tributes from District 1, 2, and sometimes 4 were privileged and had been trained their entire lives. Other, inexperienced tributes would do well to stay away from them. Katniss was taking a risk by setting up to run to the Cornucopia in the center. The reason she did was because of the bow there. He winds the tape back and zooms in on a silver bow and a sheath of a dozen or so arrows. All clear?"<br>"I guess so..." I trail off, and he plays the tape again.

A bell or something echoes through the arena and all the tributes fly off their starting points, some to the woods, some to the cornucopia thing. Mom flounders for a minute, her resolve gone. Then she runs across the circle and grabs a backpack, pushing it in front of her head to catch a knife flying straight toward her brain. She is sprinting to the woods, now and the cameras leave her to focus on Dad. He has emerged from the woods with a look of determination. He runs into the fray surrounding the big metal 'cornucopia'. He grabs a knife and looks up to size up his opponents. A small boy begins to run towards him. Dad grips his knife and wards off the small boy's swing. The boy wields his axe again, but the handle is long and thin and the end weighted. I know with a sickening feeling in my gut that this small red-haired boy has no chance. As Dad's knife plunges into the boys unprotected side, I focus on the boy's curly head as it falls the ground lifeless. His eyes, a mix of green and blue, flicker with confusion, pain, and fear as the realization sinks in. Then they are blank as he lies there, dead on the ground. The battle around him over now, the trained tributes are looking at Dad in approval.  
>The big one, the one who was dressed like an ancient god in the chariot, walks over and offers his hand. Dad takes it, hesitantly at first, then firmly shakes it. "You're in." he says as he nods approvingly at Dad. "Help gather the supplies."<p>

I watch Dad collecting the variety of things in the cornucopia. Then music plays and the victims of the day flash on the screen with their killers in the corner. When the last picture comes up, I close my eyes, not wanting to see those eyes again. Then the announcer kick in with upbeat music: "Well that's it for today folks! Be sure to tune in tomorrow, when you will see our girl on fire make her first kill; Let's see a sneak peek shall we?"

Then I see Mom hanging on a tree branch, sawing off a thin limb. On the edge of the limb is a nest buzzing with large bee things. The music pounds as what I think are wasps (although I can never tell the difference) realize what is happening and begin to sting my mother. A few more frantic strokes of the knife and the tree branch is falling down. Once the next hits the ground the wasps swarm out all over the people on the ground. They run as fast as they can, but the pretty girl is left behind. Her whole body covered in the nasty things, she screams for them to help her, for the pain to stop. But it doesn't and my Mom is swaying over the girl in triumph. I scoot closer to the screen but then the commercial starts. Gee! Whoever recorded this, should have thought to record it in parts, I mean this is the Hunger Games! I want to know what happens, not see some stupid commercial for cosmetics.

I sigh and try take it all in: they were in the hunger games. It just doesn't add up. The visions I have of the dramatic Hunger Games are full of heart-racing angst, but I never pictured my parents there. They don't fit, I can't see them actually killing anyone. Dad always helps people, cares about them, he is the sweetest person I know.

For Mom, I've seen her yelling and sometimes in extreme cases, cursing, but not killing. Her shoulders slumped with age and the wrinkles creasing on her forehead, creating a perpetual frown, giving her the appearance of a tired old woman, not a bloodthirsty killer. Even in the video, the only difference is that her shoulders are straighter and her arms are thin but strong. Now, more often than not, they are crossed across her chest in either amusement of annoyance. How could she kill that pretty girl, who was always smiling brightly?  
>And Dad, how could he kill that boy? I thought he was a kind, loving father. Could he really be that determined killer I saw on the screen? My mind protests the thought. Isn't he my Daddy, the one who lovingly fixes my favorite breakfast when I'm having a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. Isn't he the one who always talks me through my emotional turmoil, from friend trouble to crushes to handling Mom's rare but violent mood swings. I can't accept this. I won't let this killer on the screen have any connection with my Dad. But I know, deep down inside, that they are the same person.<br>Suddenly it's too much to think about, and I'm running out of the room again, tears streaming down my face. Except this time, I can't run to Mom and Dad, they're the evil people with whom I no longer feel safe.

_Here we are at Chapter 10. I honestly didn't expect to get this far. I'm sorry I took nearly a month to write this, but I promise with APs over, I will be posting faster now. However, things may come up, I do have school still, but I'll do my best.  
>About the dialogue for the interviews, I kinda stole the movie dialogue, but then I ignored the movie's ideas for the D4 boy. I apologize, but I was too lazy to get my book so that's how I wrote it. For my story, it worked better if Peeta killed the boy from D4 in the beginning instead of Cato killing him. However, I had the boy from the mov<em>_ie in mind when I pictured D4, so…yea. It's confusing, but he's not a major character so it's not that big of a deal._

_Sorry for this rambling authors note, but I have one more thing to say. About Annie, she is definitely coming back. I just wanted to get this out of the way, so that I can work on the drama now. I know I went into a lot of detail about the games and the interviews and the chariot entrance, so please tell me if you think it was too much. As always, R&R!_


	11. Toast and Trouble

_At this point, you must know that I'm not really good with deadlines, so I'll refrain from apologizing about this chapter which is a week late despite all my best efforts. I planned on it being longer, but I'm struggling with the next part, so I split it and decided to post this today._

_Shout out to Sarsheps for getting me to 50 reviews! Thank you all for the encouragement, I really appreciate it._

Katniss POV

I'm going through the motions of making dinner but I'm not really paying attention. I don't trust Haymitch with my kids. Well, I have trusted him before, but this is different. This is important. This is the story of my life, a part that I'm not particularly fond or proud of. I don't want my kids to get the wrong impression. And who was that boy? Lysimachia said he was Gale's son. Gale had a son. The thought makes me uncomfortable for some reason.  
>Peeta interrupts my train of thought: "Katniss, I think that's done." He gestures to the bread I was toasting. Well, burning more like.<br>"You know I'm no good at this Peeta. I told you that you should do it." I snap.  
>"You just watch the heat warm the bread, then take it out and put it on a plate. It's not that hard <em>Katniss<em>." He explains through a strained voice, containing his frustration.  
>"I know how to do it <em>Peeta<em>!" I retort, imitating is patronizing use of my name. "You don't have to watch over me, OK?"  
>"Well, fine, do it yourself. I don't care. I'm gonna go check on the kids."<br>After he has left the kitchen and I have grudgingly plopped the burnt bread on the plate I hear running footsteps. I look up quickly to see who it is. Lysimachia runs through the kitchen and glances questioningly at me. Then her gaze rests on me accusingly and she runs to the stairs, crying. The numbness of a few hours is gone now, replaced with an insurmountable ache. The pain feels good in a way, a reminder that I'm alive again. But now the pain isn't because of the memories that have been dragged up after so many years. It's because my daughter is mad at me, and I don't think there is any greater pain. "Lysimachia!": I call after her, even though I know she won't come back to me. I'm furious with myself for trusting Haymitch and with Mom for persuading me to. I slam the plate down on the counter and march across the kitchen.

On my way to the library, the boy runs towards me. I look down at his hands, avoiding his face. His index finger has a slight callus forming on the side. I wonder what caused that? Then I notice that his hands are clasped nervously and this boy has asked me a question. "Uh, ? I'm sorry, I don't know your last name. Where did Lysimachia go?" I gesture vaguely towards the stairs while examining his hands. The hands that look so familiar. I glance at his retreating back. His tall figure makes the numbness begin to tingle at the tips of my fingers, slowly working it's way to my heart.

I try to focus my thoughts, to keep myself here for Lysimachia and Gale and Haymitch. Haymitch! I remember now why I threw the plate down and stalk down the hall to the library. I am going to get him for hurting my daughter.

Lysimachia's POV  
>The screams ring in my head. The faces flash before my eyes. The bright images from the lighted screen taunt me. They won't let me forget what I saw or heard. I'm breathing heavily now, and I try to calm my racing heart, but I only cry harder.<br>I plop down on my bed, ignoring the pile of folded laundry that was piled on it and has now fallen to the floor. I just cry. I cry for the pretty girl and the small boy. I cry for the look in his eyes. I never thought I would see anyone in such desperation. I cry for my lost confidant, I never thought that my Dad would hurt me this badly.  
>He always warned be about getting too serious about boys, but this time it's not a thoughtless boyfriend who hurt me, it's my Dad. I can never get him or my Mom back again. I really thought that Mom loved me. I really thought she cared about us, but how could she do that? I wonder what else they do. When they go out together, is that really a chance for them to go knock off a few people? You don't just stop doing that. Once a killer, always a killer. I wonder if they were planning on killing Lich and I sometime when we didn't expect it.<br>I'm face down on my bed when I hear a knock at my door. I jolt up into a sitting position while frantically wiping at my flushed face and puffy eyes. I struggle to clear my throat and manage to calm my heaving chest long enough to muster a 'yes?'.  
>"It's me."<br>"Come in." I consent cautiously, unsure of who bothered to come and find me. It's not my Mom or Dad, I'd know their voices. Grandpa wouldn't bother knocking and the voice isn't high enough to be Nana.  
>The door opens on a boy who, despite my distress, is the very person I was half-hoping would be behind that door. I smile through my tears and struggle in vain to swallow the lump in my throat.<br>This is not a great way to impress a guy: crying your eyes out face down on the bed. I know I should be worried about my parents, I mean any other girl would be concerned if they found out that their parents were murderers, but not me. I'm sitting here worrying about a boy.  
>I look up at him, waiting for him to nod and go report back to whoever sent him that I'm fine. But he walks across the room and looks me in the eye.<br>"They didn't mean it you know." His calm voice startles me.  
>"You don't know that." I shake my head vehemently at Corren to remind him that it's impossible for murdering someone, especially on documented TV, to be a mistake.<br>"It's the Hunger Games, a government-controlled event. You know they had to participate."  
>"But that doesn't change the fact that those two people are gone, and that's not counting all the others killed in the first few moments. You saw it, Corren, don't try to deny it. Dad meant to-, to kill that boy. You may not know him as well as I do, but he was determined to kill him, it was obvious from his face. And-, I just can't believe it." Corren slowly reaches out and firmly puts his hands on my shoulders.<br>"You're right, I don't know him. But I do know that my Dad lived through it and yours did too. He may have done some scary things but he still cares about you. It's OK. You'll be fine."  
>"No it's not OK! I am not fine! Just look at me!" I jump to my feet in defiance of his light treatment of this horrible situation.<br>"Yes, You will Lysimachia. Trust me, you'll be fine."  
>And that's when it happens again. I just stand there, frozen by his touch, and held by his gaze. I take a deep breath and step forward. "Ok" is all I get out before he is holding me close and I realize that maybe my world won't be so confusing after all.<p>

_Awwwww! I'm sorry, but I just love Corren. I'm having a lot of fun deciding what his character will be like. I'm trying not to work off of Gale too much, but there will be some character similarities between them. _

_For the next chapter, I'm attempting a part from Haymitch's POV. I don't know how long it will be but I'm trying it. And in the next chapter they will receive information about Annie. She's coming! Don't worry! _


	12. What to do with the dancer?

_Hey again, sorry for the lapse _(again),_ but I have inspiration issues, and I get stuck a lot. I'm back on track though, and I have quite a few ideas for the next few chapters. _

_The reason I didn't update last weekend, is because I was in DC. That's right, I got to visit the capitol. It was really fun and exhausting, but I'm back now and I hope you like where this story is going…_

Haymitch's POV

I watch a tearful Lysimachia run out of the room and sigh. Now Katniss is going to be down my throat about her, just like the time I bought her a five-pound bag of candy for her birthday a few years ago.  
>It was only candy! It's not like she got into my liquor, although Lich did once. It was completely unintentional, I swear! But you have to admit the face of the 3-12 year old was highly amusing. I snatched it away from him, too late to prevent the look of shock and fear as the burning liquid ran down his throat. "My tummy's on fire!" he shrieked and Lys splashed him with the bowlful of water they had been using to wash their hands while finger painting.  
>I can laugh about it now, but then I remember glaring at her before handing Lich some juice to drink and a towel for his wet shirt. I instantly regretted it though, because she cowered under my gaze and her lip began to quiver. Something stirred inside me, under all my mounting irritation, and I clumsily patted her shoulder. I gave her a half-smile and she was beaming again.<p>

I think of when she ran out just now, her creased forehead and quivering lip revealing the battle she was fighting for control of her emotions. I do try to care for her, despite what Katniss thinks. I lean my head back on the couch and wait for either Katniss or Peeta to come chew me out about my care of their daughter.

Gale clears his throat and orders his son to go thank 'Mrs. Katniss' for her hospitality. Corren doesn't leave right away though, and remains to question his father further about the games. When questioned about the previous victors, Gale nods towards me, explaining my role in the star-crossed lovers lives.  
>"Mr. Abernathy won the 50th Hunger Games, or the Second Quarter Quell. Every twenty-five years a rule change would be added to spark excitement in these ever-special games."<p>

Corren turns to me: "You won?" His surprise is obvious, I don't really look like a victor sprawled on the couch, resting my graying head on Effie's shoulder. "Yes he did win!" She indignantly replies, saving me the bother. "He was young and very handsome then." Then she adds, as an afterthought, "You can't tell it now can you..." She smiles teasingly at me.  
>"You've looked better yourself. I've been watching that waistline of yours." I retort, poking her side in just the right place. She jumps, stifling a giggle, and frowns petulantly at me. She doesn't like losing her composure in front of others, and tickling her is one of the many things I do to disturb her dignified posture.<br>"Well, someone had to do it." I shrug.  
>She turns to me accusingly "Haymitch, I am maintaining a womanly figure." She defensively retorts. "Tell it to your tailor." I smirk as she stumbles for a smart reply. When she finds none, she whacks my thigh. "Ow!" I protest.<p>

Now it is her turn to smirk. I sheepishly smile at her. We both know that she is very careful about her appearance and would never allow herself to get even the slightest bit chubby. Years ago, before the star crossed lovers had captured Panem's heart she used to measure herself daily but after a hospital visit over a one-inch gain, I had to put a stop to it. She's gotten better about it, over the years, but I still enjoy teasing her about it.  
>Corren smiles at me. At least someone appreciates my humor.<br>Gale continues: "As the youngest and most capable victor, he soon took over duties as mentor. I'm sure you heard about mentors in class?"  
>"Yes, he said they helped develop strategies for the tributes, and helped them through the chariot, interview, and arena process. But how did they do that exactly?"<br>"Oh, that's easy. They gave them advice." I reply and begin to chuckle at the advice I first gave Katniss and Peeta.  
>"And seal sponsor deals." Gale adds. "That's what made the games so big, people would bet on their favorite tributes and that money went to gifts in the arena. The prices were sky-high and the Capitol made a hefty profit off of people betting on the tributes lives" He explains, with a hint of bitterness.<p>

"I'd like to talk to you some more Mr. Abernathy, but I should probably check on Lysimachia."  
>"Oh yes the poor dear! I should probably come too." Effie exclaims and attempts to rise, but I stop her. "No, let the boy." With worry still creasing her near perfect complexion, she sits beside me once more. I give her a knowing look, and she smiles in realization.<p>

Before Corren gets the chance to leave, Peeta pokes his head in.

"Where's Lysimachia?" he asks while curiously looking around the room for her.

"In a pool of tears." I shrug at Peeta's confused expression.  
>"What happened?"<br>"She got as far as the bloodbath and hit the commercial break. She wasn't doing well emotionally so she decided to take a break." Effie cuts in, making the situation sound a lot better than it is.  
>"Well then, I better check on her."<br>"No, I'm sure she's fine." Effie giggles.  
>"What do you mean?"<br>"Oh, I just think she will be feeling better soon."  
>"Ok then. I'll just go back in the kitchen and check on dinner."<p>

Peeta turns to go when he collides with a fuming Katniss. "What happened to Lysimachia?" She snaps at me avoiding Peeta's gaze.  
>"She took a break, she ran to the foyer I think." Effie cheerily replies, vainly attempting to lighten the mood.<br>"She's up in her room crying her eyes out, what happened!" Katniss yells at me, and then turns to Gale.  
>"Well, I should probably get Corren. He's looking for Lysimachia. We have to leave."<br>"I think he would have found her by now. What did he want with her?" Katniss walks into the room, keeping her gaze fixed on Gale.  
>"He wanted to make sure she was ok."<br>"Why would he think she wasn't? What happened?" The gap between them shrinks as she moves to stand right in front of Gale.  
>"Nothing Katniss, she was just a little intimidated by the bloodbath." Gale calmly replies, ignoring Katniss' rising voice.<br>"A little?" Her hands are on her hips now as she glares at him.  
>"I'm not sure what exactly was going through her head, but she ran out after the commercial break."<br>"What was happening before she ran out?"  
>"A sneak peek of you and the tracker-jackers."<br>"You got that far?"  
>"This is the abbreviated one. The one they cut so people can relive their favorite years without watching three hours, remember?<br>"Gale, I wasn't paying attention to what version of my nightmare I had, I just threw this stuff in a box to be forgotten for as long as possible."  
>"I'm sorry, I know."<br>"This was almost the worst time of my life and I'd prefer not to relive it, but if that's what it takes to get Lysimachia feeling better, than I'll do it, but I don't need you right now."  
>"I understand, it was a low point in my life too, believe me, but I want help you now. I understand what you're going through, and I will do whatever it takes to help you and your daughter straighten this out"<br>"I think you've done enough, thank you." interrupts Peeta as he walks toward Katniss and Gale.  
>"Katniss, I just want to help, but if you want me to go, that's fine. I'll have to go find Corren, excuse me."<p>

Gale's shoulders stand straight as he marches out of the room to find his son. I turn questioningly to Effie and she nods. "I think we have to go dear, you have to sort this out yourselves."  
>"Yea, that's fine." Katniss' shoulders slump, her anger almost gone now.<br>"We'll be sure to bug you tomorrow." I add, not wanting to sound like we're abandoning them.  
>"Alright, it was nice to see you, I'll see you tomorrow then." Peeta shakes my hand and pats Effie's back as she makes her way to the foyer door.<br>"Are you sure you'll be okay without me?" Effie asks.  
>"Yes, go home and settle in." Katniss pushes me into the foyer.<br>"Bye!" Effie waves and I sigh.  
>"Let's go home" I gesture towards the door and she smiles. She takes my outstretched hand and we walk hand in hand to the carriage waiting outside.<p>

Mrs. Everdeen's POV

I walk out of the pantry by the stairs and look at the empty room in surprise. Katniss and Peeta must have cleared out after their squabble. These walls may be thick, but they don't block all noise and I know the sound of my daughter's frustrated voice.  
>I sigh, knowing that tonight's dinner will be a silent one.<p>

Katniss walks in, not fuming as I expected, but deflated. "Dinner's almost ready, is Gale staying? If so set two extra places."  
>"No, he'll be leaving. He's looking for Corren now." She responds in a flat voice.<br>"Well then, I guess, it'll be just the seven of us."  
>"Haymitch and Effie left."<br>"Ok then, just the five of us."  
>"Peeta, can you toast some more toast quickly? I believe the last batch burned."<br>Katniss gives Peeta a glare and I wince. Must have been a sore spot, I'll try not to bring it up again.  
>"Lysimachia, Lich, dinner time!" I call up the stairs.<br>A stampede of feet follow my call and Corren and Lysimachia tumble down the stairs. Lich comes running from the hall.  
>"Your father's looking for you Corren, you have to go home."<br>"Already?" Lysimachia sighs wistfully.  
>"Yea, I better go. Bye! And thank you for your lovely hospitality." And with that, he's through the foyer door on the way to the library.<p>

Suddenly, a ring sounds, and Lysimachia calls "I'll get it!"  
>Peeta shakes his head at her and picks up the phone: "Mellark residence, may I ask who this is?"<br>"Yes, this is Dr. Everdeen's supervisor, this is the number she gave us to reach her, may I please speak with her?"  
>"All right."<br>Peeta hands me the phone, mouthing who it is and I take it with confusion.

"Hello, how nice to hear from you again. I didn't expect to hear from you for at least a week. What's your problem time?"

"We've had a patient relapse and we request that you return immediately."  
>"I'm taking a break and I won't be back for a couple weeks, can't it wait till then?"<br>"No, we believe that your insight would be most beneficial in this case."

"I'm in District 12 visiting my family, I have no intention of leaving, have Mara take care of it. I know she's a little inexperienced, but I'm sure that she'll do fine."  
>"We need you for this particular patient. She's difficult to handle and we believe consistency is the best policy when treating any mentally unstable patient."<br>"Mara's been at my side while I treat all my patients, wouldn't this patent recognize Mara."

"Dr. Everdeen, it is crucial for the well-being of this patient that you return immediately. We will pay for the travel of your family, but this patient needs you."  
>"All the way to District 4?"<br>"Yes, are you coming?"

"Who is the patient that needs me so much?"  
>"The patient is Annie Cresta."<p>

_I told you I'd bring her in. I finally did. I'm really sorry, I don't know if any of you have been keeping track of days, but the last like 8 chapters have been about one day. I will be spending maybe one more chapter on this day, then moving on. Also, if any of you were confused with all the comings and goings to the library, here's what happened. _

_There's two doors: one that leads to the foyer, one that leads to the hall. The hall leads to the kitchen and the foyer is off the kitchen. The stairs are off the kitchen, opposite of the hall. Lysimachia took the foyer door, Corren took the hall door. Katniss, while down the hall, bumped into him, and Peeta also took the hall. _

_That make sense? I drew out a floor plan, but I might make a few tweaks._

_How did you like my story cover? I love it Review and tell me what you think!_


	13. School and Serule

_So, I decided to start each chapter with a flashback to try to catch you up after my long absences. I'm really sorry for the stupid chapter title, but I really wanted to get this out there as soon as possible.  
><em>_Shout-out to deedee102030! __Your alert convinced me to finish this chapter, finally… _

_I hope y'all will enjoy it!  
><em>

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>  
>"Dr. Everdeen, it is crucial for the well-being of this patient that you return immediately. We will pay for the travel of your family, but this patient needs you."<br>"All the way to District 4?"  
>"Yes, are you coming?"<br>"Who is the patient that needs me so much?"  
>"The patient is Annie Cresta."<p>

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><p>Lysimachia's POV<p>

I wake up to a rough shaking on my shoulder. I sigh and slowly open my eyes. My stomach feels uneasy at the thought of last night, but the feeling is gone immediately when I see my father. I smile and bask in the security until I remember yesterday afternoon and all the things that he did on that screen. I watch him warily as he smiles and says "Good morning lovebug!"

He reaches his hand forward towards my face and I cringe. He comes closer and I jump back, fully awake now.  
>"What are you doing?"<br>"Wiping the crust from your eyes, sleepyhead." He replies.  
>"Don't touch me." I warn, backing away from his concerned face. Is he really concerned about me? His face makes me doubt if my original judgement was too hasty. But then I remember the look of determination on his face, and I realized that I was right, my father does not care about me, not really.<p>

"'What's wrong?"  
>"Go, just go!" I yell angrily at his now retreating figure.<br>He leaves, and I sigh in relief. My lip begins to tremble but I take a deep breath. I am going to school today just as if everything were fine. Which it is, isn't it? There's nothing truly wrong. My parents are just determined to murder other children. I take another breath, clearing my head, and march determinedly down the hallway to the bathroom. I look in the mirror and smile, I'm going to look my best today. I brush my hair out and experiment with different styles. Pig or pony tails? Bun or Braid? Which one would be most likely to attract Acerus' attention? He may be only a schoolgirl crush but I need the distraction today.

I sit stiffly through the ride, always watching my father. I refuse to call him 'Daddy' even in my mind. I keep my eyes trained on his hands, watching how he gently directs the horses. I am tempted to look up as I continue ignore his worried glances towards me.

When we finally arrive, I jump out of the carriage and run for the door. "Goodbye Lys!" he calls after me, but I refuse to give him any sign that I heard him. I run up to Echiae, who as usual is waiting at the door for Camelia and I. "Hey!" She breaks into a wide smile as she greets me.  
>"Hey back." I respond.<br>"Aren't you going to ask me?" She asks excitedly.  
>"About what?"<br>"About the baby! Don't you remember?"  
>"Oh, right! So, are you going to tell me?"<br>"Whatever gave you the impression that I want to tell you something?"  
>"You just asked me!"<br>Echiae giggles "Oh right, I did... Anyway, we named my little sister!"  
>"Did you decide on Lysimachia, after your wonderful best friend? Or did you pick one of the suggestions we raised at lunch, like Cupcake or Mango."<br>"No, I wouldn't name her after my ridiculous best friend! Why would we name her after an exotic fruit or a bakery treat? Besides, my parents decided, not me."  
>"I don't know." I shrug. "Camelia!" I yell across the schoolyard. As usual she has arrived just in time, right before the last warning chime rings. She sprints towards us desperately, determined not to get another tardy mark. Her mother has been really hard on her about the teachers' frequent complaints at her tardiness.<p>

"Sorry." She says breathlessly as she pauses briefly to get her breath. "Forgot-my-homework." She explains pausing in between each word to fill her lungs with much-needed air.  
>"And why was that?" I challenge, smirking. I know exactly why.<br>She is a night owl and stays up to all hours of the night finishing her homework the night before it is due. Then, she wakes up at the last minute and can't find the work that she cranked out the night before. I laugh to myself. We are all foolish in our little ways.  
>Echiae is overly practical, Camelia is a procrastinator and teases us way more than a loving best friend should, and me-, well, I'm not really sure about me. I guess I'm too optimistic. I try to think the best of everything, except when my mind gets stubborn and then, I'm hopeless. I refuse to think badly about anyone, except when I have a good reason. Which I am sure I do, anyone would agree with me.<br>Echiae pushes both of us inside as the last chime rings though the nearly empty yard. "C'mon you two! We can't be late for class!" I roll my eyes at Camelia and race her down the hall to class.  
>The day flies by and by lunchtime I'm dying to know what Echiae's parents named their little girl. Echiae said she doesn't want to distract us from class, but I know she's just trying to tease us. I never get distracted in class despite all the looks that Camelia and I exchange. Well, except in history of course. But thinking of history makes me uncomfortable, because I realize that it's my next class and I'll have to explain what I found out. I shove the rest of my sandwich in my mouth and begin to choke, just as Echiae was about to reveal the big secret. She quickly turns to me, concerned. "Are you ok?" I'm not in so many ways, but I just nod my head vigorously.<p>

She pauses again, and I finally get my sandwich down. "Her name is...Serule."  
>"Awwwww! That's so pretty!" I gush.<br>"Yea, Mom named her that because of her eyes, they're a beautiful blue, like mine."  
>Just then, the five minute chimes go off and I'm really nervous. My next period is History. What if I have to present in front of the whole class? I've heard rumors from the other upper-school students that he has a platform set up in his classroom for just that purpose. What am I going to say? 'My parents were in the hunger games, and apparently won by killing a lot of people.' I'm surprised they didn't kill each other. From Dad's interview I know they loved each other then though. Did that change anything? Did they decide not to kill each other? Did loving each other make a difference? Well, I guess it did because they're both alive today.<br>But then something hits me: they were reaped together. There's only one winner, yet they're both alive. How did they both come out? Was there a complication? My teacher did say that there was an interruption in the last one, didn't he? Was that the last one? I can't remember. It kind of makes me curious. But I restrain my curiosity, because last time I was curious I didn't really want to know after all.

As I am lost in thought, Camelia nudges me, and I snap back to reality. I realize that someone has asked me a question and I look up to see Corren. "You alright?" He repeats.  
>"Yea. I'm just tired I guess, I didn't really sleep well."<br>"Well, after last night I doubt anyone could sleep. I'm really sorry about my Dad, he didn't mean to cause trouble, he just cares about you guys that's all."  
>Corren's reference to last night makes me wince again. I remember the tension after the phone call, and how Mr. Hawthorne immediately insisted on going with us. As if we were really going! We would never travel across the country just to be with Gram over her break, I mean we love her but still, she has a job to do. Mom refused and soon everybody's voices escalated into the category of yelling.<br>I shrug in response to his apology. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around it."  
>He nods, understanding what I'm talking about. "Corren's dad?" asks Camelia, confused.<br>"No, I mean-" Once again I am cut off by the chimes, this time signaling the end of lunch period.  
>"Let's go, I'll explain it later." I drag my feet down the hallway. Echia squeezes my hand. She just thinks I'm nervous about Acerus, but at least she is showing concern. That's more than Grandpa did, and he knew what I was going through.<br>I walk into the classroom and smile brightly at Acerus, who is already seated.  
>"Well, hello!" He says "I guess I was right!"<br>He must notice my confused expression, so he begins to explain. "I said I'd see you tomorrow, remember? And today is tomorrow, so... Kinda stupid, I'm sorry."  
>"Nah, it's fine. I'm glad you're right. And let me guess, I'll see you walking out that door at the end of class?" I say, pointing to the door and making my face solemn at this revelation.<br>"I guess we'll have to see then, won't we." He smiles mischievously.  
>"We'll see." I repeat, gulping to suppress my urge to spin around and around with joy. He's talking to me! He's joking with me! He's smiling at me!<p>

Then, he teacher raps the desk and we all shuffle to our seats. I suddenly remember what I'm going to have to do and I'm tingling all over. I carefully breath deep breaths, focusing on the feeling of my chest filling up with air, then slowly releasing it like a wave cresting in slow motion. The teacher begins his speil. "Hello class. I hope you all remember what yesterday's lesson was about?" We all nod in response.  
>"Please pass your written homework forward."<br>Corren raises his hand "Um, sir?"  
>"Yes?"<br>"You didn't assign any written homework, just research."  
>"Right!, I'm sorry, let's discuss your findings then. Young man, why don't you go first. Please come up here." He gestures to Acerus, then to the stage of sorts which, sure enough, he has placed in the center of the room.<br>Acerus rises and steps proudly up onto the platform. He stands straight and begins to recount his research. "The Hunger Games were a huge event that gained a lot of support from the Capitol public. They often grew attached to the tributes that they sponsored. If the tributes won and became victors, they received special television coverage each year during lulls in the Games. Although there were a total of 75 victors, few victors achieved this fame. Frequently the ones who did were from Districts 1,2, and 4. A few retained this fame, even beyond their deaths. They are as follows:  
>From District 1, we have Cashmere and Gloss, a brother and sister pair who were greatly loved. From District 2, we have Enobaria who became famous through one of her kills in the arena in which she tore another tributes throat with her teeth. Also from District 2, we have Brutus, who was popular for his brute strength.<br>From District 4, we have Finnick Odair, who was the most popular victor until near the end. He was popular mainly with the capitol women for his good looks and his skill with a weapon known as a trident. From what we know now though, Mr. Odair led a tortured life as he and many other victors were forced to please the public at all times. He had to sacrifice his privacy, his own feelings, and even his own body. Fame in the Capitol for any of these victors, was not to be envied."

We politely clap and he proudly bows. Districts 3-11 are a blur, I don't really pay much attention. I'm too nervous about my upcoming turn to pay much attention.  
>"Who is next?"<br>I gulp and raise my hand. "Well, come up then!"  
>I slowly climb the platform and begin to recount what I learned. "As we learned yesterday, District 12 had four victors. The most famous were..." I look at Corren briefly and he nods encouragement. "The most famous were my-, I mean, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark." I push the words out hurriedly. And they killed people. And they obviously won."<br>I run back to my seat. "Aren't you going to go on? I'm sure your parents must have told you a lot more?"  
>I stand up, furious at him for assuming my parents would explain it to me, and at my parents for keeping it from me. "No, They told me nothing! Yesterday, I watched them as they were reaped and sent into the arena. I watched my father stab that boy to death, and my mother set the wasp trap. I had no idea what they did until yesterday! How could you expect them to explain it!"<br>I'm fuming at him, even though it's not his fault.  
>"I'm sorry, I had no idea" He trails off, uncertain how to respond.<br>"I'll be fine." I assure the worried glances in my direction and calmly place my hands on my desk, waiting for lessons to resume.  
>"Perhaps we should suspend your participation in this class, considering the emotional toll it may take on you. Would that arrangement be agreeable?"<br>"No, I'd like to stay. I'd rather stick with my normal classes, thank you."  
>"Are you sure?"<br>I falter for a minute. "I think so." I manage.  
>"You don't have to decide right now, but if you find it necessary, you may wait either in the hall or in the art center until our discussion is finished."<br>"Thank you!" I sigh in relief. At least for today, I can avoid any thought about it until I sort out what I want to do. "I'll pack my things quickly, I won't be a disturbance."  
>"I do not consider this a disturbance. It is quite necessary for your well-being."<br>I nod my appreciation again and quickly shove my notebook and pencils into my backpack. "See you at the art center!" I call to a stunned Camelia and a worried Echiae as I hurry out of the room.  
>I set my backpack down in front of the easel and sigh. What to paint? Painting reminds me of my father, but what choice do I have?<br>I look around the room until my gaze rests on a set of various shaped tubes. They are made of glass, some of them tinted different colors. At first I think they are for decorating, but then I see the little packets of different colored sands. Oh, I realize: you're supposed to fill the little tubes with the sand.

I soon become engrossed in the process of layering different colors of sand, and all disturbing thoughts are far from my mind. But still, lurking in there somewhere, is the little nagging reminder that I can't ignore them forever.

A/N: I will make no guarantees about when this story will be updated again, but I can promise you that I will finish it. I've been mildly distracted (ok, extremely distracted by this new movie I watched called Secret of Moonacre). It's amazing!

I'm also starting a Secret of Moonacre/Little White horse fanfiction, so I've also been distracted with that. But I can assure you that the DVD release (on August 18!) will definitely get me pumped again :) And of course R&R! You know the drill…


	14. Ignoring is bliss

Well hello again! I updated on time :) How exciting! So, hope you enjoy this medium chapter, it's somewhat longer than usual.

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><p><strong>Shout out time<strong>-Thank you _so _much for favoriting and alerting this story! Every notice pushes me to keep writing.

Thank you to musicislife138, moonlightsleep, skybrezz everdeen, and Sarmoo123, for your alerts! And a big thanks to moonlightsleep, iheartbooks4ever, TheCatchingJay (what a cool name!), Sarmoo123, Little-doodle-laura5663 for favoriting my story!

ArtemisKey- Thank you so much for your support and your consistent reviews to almost every chapter. You've been wonderful!

ihearbooks4ever- You have helped me so much it's unbelievable! As you all probably know by now, I have serious inspiration issues, and iheartbooks4ever has given me great ideas and has been the driving force behind this chapter. Thank you!

Thanks to all you read this story, it's great to know people appreciate my work.

After all that, um, I'll see you at the bottom…

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><p>"<em>Aren't you going to go on? I'm sure your parents must have told you a lot more?"<br>I stand up, furious at him for assuming my parents would explain it to me, and at my parents for keeping it from me. "No, they told me nothing! Yesterday, I watched them as they were reaped and sent into the arena. I watched my father stab that boy to death, and my mother set the wasp trap. I had no idea what they did until yesterday! How could you expect them to explain it!?"_

"_Perhaps we should suspend your participation in this class, considering the emotional toll it may take on you. Would that arrangement be agreeable?"_

_I falter for a minute. "I think so." I manage.  
>"You don't have to decide right now, but if you find it necessary, you may wait either in the hall or in the art center until our discussion is finished."<em>

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><p>I pour the different colors of sand into a basin and push my hands into the swirling colors. I sift the sand through my fingers. The soothing feeling calms me. As my muscles, tense from the anticipation of my presentation, begin to relax, my brain is freed to think.<br>I take a deep breath and begin to unravel my thoughts. What really happened yesterday? What made me so scared and angry? I breathe and tell myself that I have to think rationally. It wouldn't be good if I blow things out of proportion again.  
>It was dad. Mom too, but mostly dad. He shocked me the most. What did he do to scare me so much? The answer is obvious, but why is killing someone so scary? I was afraid he'd turn and hurt me. But what sign has he shown that he'd do any such thing? When I realize how much I'd overreacted, I wince. I would apologize except that I still feel uneasy about dad. I don't completely trust him, but I can't figure out why. I'm still puzzling over what he's done to deserve my doubt when Corren bursts into the room.<p>

"Hey! Are you feeling better?"  
>"Yea, I guess." I respond dejectedly.<p>

He walks to the desk, plops down his book bag, and moves close to look me full in the face.  
>"You're not doing well, are you. Is there anything I can do to help?" he demands.<p>

In the time it takes for me to half shrug and for Corren to look more deeply into my eyes, pressing for his answer, Echiae and Camelia arrive at the craft center. With a knowing grin, Camelia slides slowly backward in an exaggerated manner, as if in a silent movie.  
>"It's fine! Come back in." I sigh.<br>"Were we interrupting anything?" asks Camelia, her face a picture of innocence.  
>"Come on Camelia! Don't be so childish." She giggles then yanks my arm, pulling me away from the embarrassed Corren.<br>When I resist she shakes her free hand at me: "Now Lys! We have gym. Wouldn't want to be late to another class..."

"I don't." I retort, fed up with her teasing and patronizing tone. "Mrs. Dunst said I could call my parents and go home early if I wanted to."  
>"Lucky you!" Camelia pouts comically.<br>"So you're going? Echiae confirms in a grave tone, obviously very concerned about my well being.  
>"I think I will, but I'm not calling my parents." I smiled as an idea begins to form. -<br>After I laid out my plan I got mixed responses. Echiae, scandalized at my sneakiness immediately tried to stop me. But I convinced her to keep quiet. Camelia evilly suggested that Corren accompany me to my mysterious destination. As I begin to raise my objection, I could feel my cheeks burning. Camelia pounced on it and made sure that Corren noticed my predicament. He shifted uncomfortably. "I'll be fine Corren, just go to class. Thank you!"

He promptly left, leaving me with a shocked Echiae and a crowing Camelia. She immediately inquired whether I had feelings for him. Much to my embarrassment, I gave assent. However, I quickly quelled Camelia's squeals and was out the door within five minutes of my confession, promising to explain later. I knew I would never hear the end of this…  
>After finally ridding myself of my best friends, I began to put my plan into action. I pretended to dial my parent's number and when there was no answer, I explained that we were having a wiring problem, when in reality I had purposely called a dead number. There were quite a few of those still unused as District 12 wasn't exactly a desirable location to move to after the war.<p>

Finally, I managed to escape the school without any further distractions. Racing down the road towards home leaves me panting. So much so that I have to stop several times before I finally reach the hill that once conquered, provides a view of our whole valley. Apparently, my parents received it as a reward for some service they did the government. Perhaps it was because of their wonderful participation in the Games.

But that is not why I've come, to gaze upon our valley. I've come for our hedge. Dad had  
>it planted years ago to prevent the animals from disturbing us. We spray it monthly with a special spray that gives out an order distasteful to most predators, but that humans don't smell. It's great, but it means Mom has to trek far to hunt. She doesn't mind though, as long as we're safe.<p>

I walk up to the hedge facing the road and follow it a few feet. There it is! I found the opening that will lead me into the woods. I just have to get past the clearing, then I'm off to that shack, the one Mom grew up playing near. I push my way through the weak spot in the hedge and roll down the hill to the clearing. I am fourteen, but I rolling down hills is an activity I still enjoy. And besides I was exhausted from trudging up the other side of the hill.

Now near the clearing, I gasp at what I see. There's a house. Someone has moved into my circle of solitude during my summer absence. I usually avoid my clearing over the summer because it's near a stream and the flies are nasty. I turn around, surveying the area. Then out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar path. I gulp. I know that path. I traveled down it yesterday. This must be the Hawthorne's place. When Gram said they'd moved in down the street, she wasn't exaggerating. I must not have been paying attention when we went here before. In my defense, I was suffering a great emotional meltdown.

I walk towards the path, still dazed from this revelation. When I reach it, my eyes dart up at the sound of giggles. I recognize the gigglers to be the Hawthorne girls. Embarrassed at unintentionally trespassing and at having been seen tumbling recklessly down the hill, I advance slowly towards them. "Is your Mom inside?" I inquire, wondering if they would answer. At the moment they seemed at the verge of bursting into full out laughter at any minute.  
>"I don't see what's so funny." I object petulantly to their unnecessary mirth. I'm still ruffled that my beautiful clearing, the one I can dance in and know that I am perfectly alone has been spoiled.<br>"You're hair. It's all different colors." Responds the older girl, the one with her braid clipped up. "What happened? You flew too close to a rainbow?"  
>This pushes them over the edge. Now they are both laughing uproariously and by the time Mrs. Hawthorne arrived to save me from my predicament, the younger girl had wet her pants.<br>"Well then!" Mrs. Hawthorne smiles, quite amused at the situation. "You better get inside you two, before Maddi has an accident too!"  
>"Mother! I wouldn't!" objects Maddi, but Mrs. Hawthorne pushes them inside and instructs them to wash their hands. I notice that their hands are all sorts of colors. Apparently I'm not the only one who's been messing with rainbows. Or sand, in my case. It must have stuck to my hair.<br>Mrs. Hawthorne sighs and smiles down at the table on the porch where the girls had been working. When she looks up, she starts and claps her hand to her heart. "Oh, you startled me Lysimachia! Hello dear! I'm sorry, but Corren's still at school. Shouldn't you be too?" Her tone is now mischievous at the thought of me ditching.  
>"No, the teachers said I could take a break today." I pause, remembering why they gave their permission in the first place. "Because of history class." I add in a low tone.<p>

"Oh…" She immediately understands my situation and doesn't question me further. I think I'm really going to like her.  
>"I'm OK." I assure her when I see a flicker of worry cross her face. "I'm a little shaken and confused but other than that…" I trail off as she smiles knowingly. "Any one would be a little shaken after tumbling down a hillside. But in your case, I don't think that has anything to do with it."<br>Her cheery face begins to beam in surprised delight. My confused expression silently questions her what she is so excited about. Her enthusiasm is a bit dizzying, even for me.

"Why don't you help me with Corren's birthday present? The girls and I were working on it yesterday, but we couldn't very well explain that to you in front of him now could we? "  
>She pulls me over to the table to show me what the girls were working on.<br>"I'm sorry we were acting strange. Corren is very good at finding out secrets. I was so worried he'd be suspicious." Her lively tone has relaxed me somewhat, and I begin to feel at home.  
>"Of course, that sounds nice. What are you making him?"<p>

"Well, Corren is fascinated with exotic animals, especially dangerous ones. We're making him a collection of all his favorites. We gathered the supplies and funky facts from the school; they have a lot of stuff lying around there you know" She pauses in her explanation to hand me a piece of paper. "You can help make the pictures!"  
>"How do I make the pictures? I'd love too, but I can't stay long. I have to get home when school ends, and I have to thinking to do."<br>"Please stay? I'll be fun!" She pleads.  
>"All right!" I'm convinced that this will be fun. I really like Mrs. Hawthorne's childish manner.<br>"Why don't we clean your hair, then you can trace the pictures we got from the school?"  
>Rosemary's proposition sounds wonderful. I can't wait to get started. -<p>

Being with Mrs. Hawthorne is different than being at home. She seems uncertain how to handle my distress, so she just ignores it. She does comfort me though. Every time she sees my shoulders drooping, she'll make a joke and place her hand gently on my back. I feel her concern encouraging me. I decide I like this: this not talking. Ignoring is wonderfully peaceful. A breeze makes my hair fly in my face, and when I've cleared it I see Rosemary trying to fix her hair. The autumn breezes are usually light, but this one was stronger and she turned her back just as it blew. Her hair fell straight over her face. She looks like a monster of some sort, and I begin to giggle. She immediately straightens and attempts to muster some dignity.  
>"What are you laughing at dear? I'm perfectly presentable!" Her snooty voice breaks at the end and soon she is cracking up too.<p>

I pretend she is my mother, that I have no bad memories to remember. When the girls come out, I pretend they are my sisters. I always wanted a sister, but my real mother didn't want any more children. I'm so caught up in my world, I don't even notice Corren coming up the lane.

Immediately, Rosemary pushes the tell-tale pictures into a bag and pulls out a sheet of homework. "Now Maddi, I know you can get confused, but you must do your work. I don't care if it's tricky, it has to be somewhat difficult for you to learn."  
>By the time Corren reaches the table, my bubble has burst. Annoyed at this reminder that I will have to go home soon and face all the strangeness, I stare stonily at Corren.<p>

"Not feeling well, huh?" He asks, searching my glare for the answer.  
>"I'm going home, Thank you Mrs. Hawthorne!"<br>"Bye!" I call at the girls when I have started up the hill, purposely ignoring Corren and his question. It's not his fault, but he does seem intent on reminding me that I have unresolved problems. The whole point of having unresolved problems is to ignore them! If you wanted to resolve them, they wouldn't have a chance to be unresolved, you'd fix them right away.

Brewing in my frustration leaves little of my concentration for anything else, much less my direction. Despite going here many times, it's been a while and I soon find myself surrounded by unfamiliar trees. The snapping of a twig causes me to freeze in my tracks. What if it's a wild animal? I shiver at the thought. No, it can't be, I remind myself. It has to be a person. Who else would walk this close to a house? Animals would shy away from another house so close to ours.  
>Reassuring myself with this, I chase the sound of crunching leaves, hoping to find someone who knows how to reach a familiar path. I take deep breaths, trying to stop my heart from pounding so fast. 'A person, not an animal!': I yell in my head over and over, until I start to feel more calm.<br>When I reach the sound, my hopes are immediately dashed and replaced by boiling anger.  
>"Couldn't leave me alone could you?" I snap at Corren.<br>"I wanted to make sure you were ok. You didn't look like it."  
>"My well-being is my own concern. Why do you care so much anyway?"<br>"Lys, I heard you scream at my dad twice, I think I'm allowed to be involved."  
>"Why did you call me Lys? We're not in nickname territory. We're not in any territory!"<br>"Why are you pushing me away? I'm just concerned because you've had a rough ride the past few days."  
>"It was MY rough ride! I can handle it!" Desperate for some semblance of control, I begin to yell at Corren.<br>"Fine, I see you don't need me. Go ahead with your _wonderful_handling, I hope it works out."

Immediately I regret my words and I want to call him back: 'Wait, I need you and your concern!' But I can be stubborn and now I feel particularly ornery. I watch him walk through the trees until I realize that I have no idea where I'm going. I follow the path he took, then his back when it comes into view. I soon find myself back in the clearing. My clearing. I sulk down the path to the road.

I'm mounting the steps up the porch when Granpa stops me. "Hey." He calls, inviting me to sit with him. Why of all people does _he_ have to be on the porch?  
>Fine! I'll sit, but I won't say a word. Unfortunately, I've forgotten that Grandpa has had much more practice with being stubborn and soon my anger spills over into tears.<p>

"He just left! Why does he have to make things so difficult? He just pokes his nose in trying to make sure I'm better. I'm not sure I want to be better! Maybe I like being frustrated."  
>"It is awfully fun." Grandpa laughs.<br>"I'm being silly aren't I? I try to be sensible, I do. But sometimes I just want to explode, you know? I just get so angry, or scared, that no one else matters. Well, he does matter to me, a lot. He's so great, but I just met him a few days ago. Silly right?"  
>"He?"<br>"Corren." I admit.  
>"You've got boy problems, huh?" He smirks.<br>"Grandpa!" I protest as his eyes sparkle with amusement.  
>"Just sit tight, he'll come around."<br>"That won't help anything!" I fume. But Grandpa has already gone into the house. I mull over his parting advice, but all I end up with is frustration. Grandpa! Why can't he give me useful advice! Eventually I stop trying to make sense of his ridiculousness and I begin to hum. Before I know it my foot is tapping. Then I'm whirling around the deck, spinning and twirling, flying through the dark clouds of my problems, leaving my worries behind.

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><p>So… What did you think? Please review and tell me! It doesn't take that long :) I'll hopefully update soon.<p>

_Note- I'm currently looking for a beta. If you are or you know of someone who may be interested I'd be so grateful. I hate wincing at all my spelling mistakes on my old chapters, and I'd love to make sure it doesn't happen in the future._


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